Bad Blood
by LittleFlowerLei
Summary: Alice Bailey is the best vampire hunter in London. But when she's hired to investigate the deaths of several women, she comes to realize that maybe her past isn't as behind her as she thought. Rated for massive violence and innuendos. Chapter Seven up!
1. Prologue

**Welcome to BAD BLOOD! ^_^ I hope you like it. It's a re-write of an old vampire story I wrote a year ago, and decided that I might try to ressurect it. Well, I'm not going to waste time here. Enjoy!**

_"There is a smile of love,_

_And there is a smile of deceit_

_And there is a smile of smiles_

_In which these two smiles meet" –William Blake_

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Prologue

"Tell me where it is."

He muttered. She tightly closed her eyes.

He shook her harder

"If you don't tell me, I'm gonna kill you."

Mom.

She started crying, but that only made him tighten his grip on her throat. She coughed and gagged… and he smiled.

It was a quarter past three in the morning. I shouldn't even have been there. I was supposed to be curled up in my bed asleep like good girls do on school nights. But instead I sat on my knees in front of my parents' bedroom door, peeking in through a crack in the door. I was surprised that they didn't see me. With my hair as white as it is, you'd think the light would've caught their attention. But somehow, it didn't.

I looked over at my father and something leaped inside me.

He was deathly pale, and his eyes were nearly bulging out of his head as he looked upon my mother with horror streaming through the natural creases in his face. He was slumped over against the bed, struggling through heavy, shallow breaths.

I felt my eyes sting with tears at the sight of him.

"Are you going to tell me or not?"

Even with tears in her eyes and her smooth, milky face turned pink and scrunched up, she shook her head.

The man threw my mother down hard and she hit the ground with a loud _thump_. She howled in pain as he stepped over her and to my father, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. The two other men in the room stepped around him to my mother and picked her up, and I knew she wouldn't get away.

"Are you going to tell me where it is, Arthur?" Asked the man holding my father up.

My father looked the man straight in the eye and shook his head.

The man growled, flashing a pair of sharpened, pearly-white teeth and spat onto the floor.

"Tell me where it is or I'll destroy your wife's pretty little face!"

I looked over at my mother, who was shaking her head at my father. He was looking at her too, and in that brief moment, he turned back to the man holding him up and shook his head. He cursed very loudly and said that he'd never tell. But the thing that really set the man off was when my father spat a big glob of blood into his eye.

The man brought a hand up and wiped away the goo, then did something I hardly expected.

He opened his mouth and licked it right off his fingers.

I was dumbstruck. I'd never seen anybody do such a thing, and it made my stomach turn. There had been a moment when my mind fumbled around the idea of running and calling the police. I could see the phone in my mind, sitting on the end table beside the stairs next to the vase of orchids that my mother had picked from the garden a few days before.

The man tore into my father's neck, using his teeth to dig through his jugular and spray blood all around the room like some sort of macabre fountain. Mother screamed— a high, stabbing scream that made my blood run cold. I heard the two other men howl in laughter, and my father cry out in pain— and then, he just stopped.

Licking his lips, the man dropped my father to the floor and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Smearing the blood across his face.

To the other men, he said, "Do what you want with the woman. Kill her, rape her, I don't care."

One of the henchmen— who had a sandy kind of blond tone to his hair— had a suggestion. "Let's rape her! You know how I love mortal women." He brought his tongue to her throat and licked her, making her crane her neck and whimper. But the other henchman— whose hair was so dark that it would've blended in with the shadows on the wall, had it not been for the overturned lamp still glowing— had other ideas.

"Dumbass! We don't have time to rape _and_ eat her! Hunters are probably on their way right now!"

"He's right," Said the man who still had my father's blood on his face. "Just kill her and get it over with. We'll find you a whore later."

While the blond henchman looked disappointed, he quickly regained himself when he saw the dark-haired henchman bite down on one of my mother's breasts and come back with a big piece of flesh in his mouth.

She screamed and thrashed around as much as she could— but it was useless. The minute that the blond henchman tore into her neck and came out with blood streaking down his face and a big chunk of larynx between his big, sharpened teeth, it was all over.

I was gasping for air. Horrified at the scene before me. I knew I was breathing too loud, I _knew_ it, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. They heard me; I knew they did, because they looked toward the door—

A dark haired man with a cigarette poking out from between his teeth came crashing in through the window and stabbed the black haired henchman in the back with a sharpened knife, making him fall to his knees and burst into a pile of ash before he even knew what was going on. This caught the attention of the others in the room, who stepped away.

In one swift motion, the man pushed back one side of his trench coat and pulled out a Colt Python revolver with a barrel modified to look like a white cross. It even had two appendages on the top and bottom of the barren up near the hammer that were smooth and curved near the top. I didn't know much about guns back then, so all I thought was that it looked neat.

_Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah! _

The sound of the bullets exploding from the gun made me jump and cover my eyes.

_Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah!_

"You bastard!" said one of the men. I wasn't sure which exactly.

Every time I heard the cross-shaped gun fire off another round, I would feel the sharp pierce of terror in my chest—as if I was the one being shot— and I would absent-mindedly squeak from surprise. I wanted to look, but something about the gunshots kept my hands over my eyes.

But then— nothing.

I moved my hands out of the way and opened my eyes. The man with the cross-shaped gun was the only one left, and he stood in the middle of three piles of ash. I brought my eyes to his face, and saw that he, too, was looking me right in the eyes.

I felt something rough and warm grab my wrist and pull me into the dark hallway.

There was no time to waste in a terrified daze. I hurried to pick myself up. The moment I turned myself around, I knew who was holding my wrist.

Geoffrey, my family's butler.

He pulled me through the dark until we reached the library, where bright beams of light were shining through the tall neo-gothic windows. He opened one of the secret doors behind a bookcase, opening up an entrance to a labyrinth. It wasn't deep, but it was safe. I could hear Klaus's loud, echoing cry from somewhere in the dark.

Geoffrey let go of my wrist and I pushed my back against the cold stone wall, where the rough gravel of the bricks brushed against me as I let myself fall into a sitting position on the ground.

My brother didn't cry much longer, and when he stopped, Geoffrey put him back in his baby seat so he could get some sleep. At the same time, he tried to convince me to get some sleep, but I refused.

After a while I tried to forget about it, it was hard to sort out emotions when the death scene of your parents plays in front of your mind, in a way that nearly made me cry.

Hours went by, but it felt like days. We stayed below in the labyrinth, constricted by the tight darkness. I don't think I ever fell asleep that night, and if I did I don't remember. I do, however, remember Geoffrey putting his hand on my shoulder.

"I'm going to see if the monsters are gone. Watch your brother, Lady Alice." He said, and I could hear his footsteps walking away shortly after.

I could hear Klaus's soft breathing in the dark. He was obviously fast asleep in his seat, oblivious to his surroundings. If Geoffrey did come back and we lived, Klaus would grow up never knowing our parents. I, at least, would have their memory. He would have nothing.

Before too much longer, Geoffrey came back and told us it was alright to come out. He picked Klaus' baby seat up by the handle and I followed behind as he took us back up to the library. The way the room was lit up by the bright morning sun, you'd think nothing bad had ever happened. We didn't get much further than the staircase in the main room before my eyes glazed over, as if I'd been crying. I went blind when Geoffrey picked up the phone to call the police.

I wasn't too panicked because I knew it wouldn't last forever. That wasn't the first time I was out in the sunlight and went blind because of it, and it certainly wouldn't be the last. I just needed to put on my black tinted sunglasses, and after a while I'd get my sight back— as long as I kept the sunglasses on until after sunset. That's how it's been my whole life, and it's something I've gotten used to.

Geoffrey had taken me to go get my sunglasses and my vision had almost completely returned by the time the police arrived at the mansion. They ordered us to stay downstairs while a parade of men in police uniforms came and went from the mansion. To comfort me, Geoffrey asked me to play with Klaus. I did as he said, and as I looked down at my baby brother, I suddenly felt a pain well up inside my chest. My poor, poor baby brother…

I let his little hand curl around mine, and he smiled up at me with those big blue eyes. I looked up from him for only a second when I heard something other than footsteps coming down the stairs. They were bringing my parents down on stretchers, white sheets drawn over their bodies to hide them. I took in a breath and looked at Klaus, who was still smiling.

At that moment, I made a promise. I was going to take care of him. I would protect him and take care of him— just like mom would've.

v—v

^—^

Our parents were buried on June 22 of that year— just a few days after the attack. I wasn't sure how many days; I'd spent a great deal of them in my room by myself. It was like some sick, twisted dream. But what made it worse was that I couldn't wake up.

But on June 22, I had to get out of my room and stand with Geoffrey, who was holding a big, black umbrella over my head, keeping me dry while it drizzled. The people who attended the funeral made it a point to stop by and offer me their condolences. Those in attendance ranged from people my father worked with to distant relatives who I never even knew existed. But I lived through it, smiling as politely as I could without seeming false or like I didn't care.

Suddenly I felt Geoffrey put his hand on my shoulder. "I need to go inside for a minute. Will you be alright out here by yourself?"

I nodded with that same, faux smile on my face. He nodded back at me, handed me the umbrella, and went inside. Leaving me out there all by myself.

"I'm so sorry to hear about your parents,"

I looked up, but was surprised to see who it was standing in front of me.

The man who killed the vampires.

"Thank you," I said, despite the fact that I recognized him. "For killing the- you know." The man nodded.

"Miss. Bailey, I want to discuss something with you."

"Okay"

"Do you know what killed your parents?"

I nodded.

"Vampires," I answered stiffly, that word tasting like vinegar on my tongue. He nodded.

"And do you remember me?"

"You're the man that killed them,"

He nodded again.

"That's right. I want you to have something very important." He handed me an index card with the name 'Victor David,' printed in elegant letters across the bottom of the card, underneath a coat of arms with the letters BGS written elegantly in front of two swords crossing.

"What's this?"

"Your invitation to join the Black Glove Society, and my name on the card means I'm offering to be your mentor when you become of age."

"Black Glove Society?"

"A secret—club of sorts. They specialize in the supernatural, and train people like me. Vampire Hunters."

"So…if I join this club—I can hunt vampires?" He nodded.

"If you pass through their training academy and get your license, yes." I looked up at him, then down at the card. It was no bigger than a simple calling card that salespeople give, but it was so much more important than its size let on.

"Why are you giving _me_ this?"

"Do you not want it?" He sounded both astonished and insulted. When he held his hand out in front of me, waiting for me to give him back the card. I held onto it. "Do you accept my invitation, Miss. Alice?"

I nodded.

"When…when will you come for me?"

"When the time is right," he was blunt with his answer.

"How will you find me? There's no number or—"

"Don't worry," He warmly said, "When you're old enough, _we_ will find _you_." He ruffled my hair. I nodded obediently, and when he smiled at me, I saw my father's reflection in his face like a mirror.

When he left, I stood there just watching until Geoffrey came back. I subtly slid the card into the pocket of my dress before lifting my head and giving him a small, empty smile.

I went to my room the minute I got the chance. It was too much. I couldn't handle it as well as I wished I could.

I watched from the glass doors leading out to my balcony as everyone left. Little splatters of rain had made water blots on the glass, and the white stone balcony had been glazed over with water.

"Ah, there you are," I turned around and saw Geoffrey standing in the doorway with his hands behind his back in his natural way. I turned back towards the window "I just put Young Master Klaus down for a nap, and decided to come see about you." I stayed quiet, and he did the same. What was there to say?

But then I started crying.

He brought me into his arms. He put my head against his chest and stroked my hair, doing everything in his power to sooth me.

But I was hardly paying attention to him.

My mind was simply swimming. I thought about my parents, what life would be like without them, and about what the hunter had offered me.

It was so hard, and I felt so bad. I kept seeing my parents being torn apart like animals in their bedroom, where they took a secret to the grave. But just as the pain started to grow, something else happened. It started to cement into hate and build up inside of me. I had the means and the opportunity to get revenge on the monsters that caused this, and god damn it, I was going to.

Right then, I vowed that no vampire will ever walk the streets of London again.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One

**Thirteen Years Later…**

The Winston Service Station sat at Marylebone Road, somewhere in the Paddington district in London. While the Dorset Service Station was only a few blocks away and could report better business in all aspects of the phrase, the Winston Service Station was a sorry excuse for a place of business and was frequently robbed by criminals nowhere near brave enough to rob any other station.

Tonight there was one man working behind the counter and only two customers walking through the aisles, picking out things they wanted to buy. I sat in my black Rolls Royce Phantom a block away, waiting for the right moment to get out and go in.

"Are we almost ready?" Klaus asked through the Bluetooth headset I wore in my ear. That was how we would communicate while I was in the field. The only thing that made my Bluetooth headset different than any other was that Klaus installed a camera so he could see everything I saw from the safety of his computer.

"I don't see anything yet," I said, leaning forward over the steering wheel in a futile attempt to get a better look. "What're we looking for again?"

I heard him sigh over the headset, agitation resonating in his voice. "A vampire, you _do_ remember what those are, don't you?" I rolled my eyes at his sarcasm. "Redhead, early to late twenties, female."

It seemed to me as though speaking those words had been the 'Open Sesame' of the job, if you will, because just as he finished reminding me who I was after, a redheaded girl who looked to be in her early to late twenties came strolling across the parking lot from out of the darkness and went into the gas station convenience store. Her arm around the waist of a man twice her size with blond hair.

"Speak of the devil," I said, grinning. I reached over to the passenger seat and holstered my two black Glock 21SF's before quietly getting out of my car and following her into the gas station convenience store, trying to avoid the gaze of the clearly strung-out cashier.

With my eye on the redhead, I strolled to the back of the store, using my black trench coat to hide my guns from view. Most people don't understand how vampire hunters can tell the difference between a vampire and a human. They look exactly the same, especially nowadays when most humans can get their skin the same tone as a vampire's without contracting their sick disease. One way is by looking up in a mirror. If you see a reflection, you're after a human. If not, well… let's just say you should get your guns ready and your crosses out, cause you've got a vamp on your hands.

This was exactly what I did. I subtly glanced up at the security mirror, where I saw the reflection of the guy— but not the girl. She was a vamp alright.

I could hear them talking. She didn't want to buy any of the junk food that he was picking up, but he overlooked everything she was saying and bought it anyway, promising that she would get her jewelry soon enough. Moments passed when others would have turned and fired, but I waited. My nerves were like strings, pulling me until I grabbed my guns and shot, but I balled my hands into fists in my pockets, disobeying their compulsive urge.

The right moment seemed like it was a long time in coming, but when it finally came, I pulled out both my guns as swiftly as I could; turned; and fired.

Debris from the blasted snacks filtered the air like dust as the redhead vampire, her boyfriend, and the strung-out cashier ducked for cover. I stepped around the shelves just in time to see the redhead push her boyfriend further down the aisle and stand up to face me. She barred her teeth, like a dog, and I saw that two of them were sharpened. A smile poked at the corners of my lips as I pointed my guns at her and fired.

She fled through the cloud of tile dust, grabbed her boyfriend by the wrist, and practically threw him behind the counter with the cashier. Even though she told him to stay there, he refused. He wanted to protect her, and as sweet as that was, he clearly had no idea what he would've been up against. I fired at her again. The bullet grazed her shoulder, sending a thin trickle of blood down her arm. Bad day to wear a tank-top. She turned and lunged at me like a tiger, flashing her pearly-whites like a royally pissed-off wolf, but she missed and went tumbling to the floor.

I had a clear shot. One bullet to the head would either kill her, or paralyze her, and one bullet to the heart would definitely paralyze her. But just as I lifted my guns to take the shot, we both saw red and blue flashing police lights erupt out of the darkness. Damn it! The clerk— or maybe it was the boyfriend— called the cops!

I swore loudly when I saw the lights, but I swore twice as loud when the redhead vampire ran out into the parking lot and ducked down a long dark ally. I followed after her. I _wasn't _about to be bested by a blood sucker!

The bright lights from the store faded away behind me as I waded through the dark, the lights glowing on my back lighting my way for only a few moments longer.

My gaze bounced about between the shadows, searching for maybe a flash of red hair or a subtle shift in the dimness to give me some indication of which way I needed to go. But everything remained still and black, which was good. It kept me on edge. It kept me alert.

"Where is she…?" I heard Klaus whisper into my ear. I didn't respond, I just kept moving forward, guns raised at my sides.

"They ran down that way!" I heard someone— either the clerk or the boyfriend— shout from the lit-up mouth of the alley. I cursed under my breath, and the slow pace which I had just been going had been replaced with a fast sprint down to the fire escape belonging to the building behind the gas station. I climbed up and dropped down onto the roof just as the silhouettes of the two policemen came into view.

I watched them walk down the alley, shining their flashlights trying to find the woman who shot up the convenience store. But I stayed low, careful about all the movements I made until I saw them turn around and walk back. I smiled to myself, but just as I pushed myself up, I felt my shoulder brush against something cold and squishy. Like a water balloon filled with icy water.

With my heart pounding in my ears, I looked over my shoulder and saw the massive breasts of the redheaded vampire. She grabbed my jacket and pushed me back down against the roof with all the strength she had in her scrawny-looking— yet surprisingly strong— arms. I felt her push my hair to the side, exposing the skin on the back of my neck. She took her time, probably thinking that she was making me squirm by delaying my death as long as possible.

_That_ was her mistake.

I twisted my arm in a way I'm sure arms aren't supposed to twist and shot her in the stomach, shutting my eyes and closing my mouth so I wouldn't get any of the blood that sprayed from her stomach in them. _That_ would be just icky.

"What the hell was that?!" One of the cops shouted from below. I cursed, and pulled the vampire down with me. She was bleeding. She was in pain. But she wasn't dead or paralyzed. I needed to pop one of my specially-made stake bullets in her heart or I would be in for a shit-load of trouble with the authorities. But I also couldn't do it with them prowling around the ally, that'd be just stupid.

So I waited, trying to muffle the noises the vampire was making. Damn it all to hell! They were going to find me! Sure, the Black Glove Society would bail me out like they used to when I was new and not nearly as sneaky. They'd find a way to put my face back into the crowd, make me incognito again. But every time they had to, I got closer and closer to some stupid desk job— or assassination. I'm not sure which would've been worse.

I pulled out my little sharpened hatchet from its loop on my belt and placed the blade against the vampire's throat. I had to do this quickly and quietly, but I wasn't sure at the time how easily _that _would go over.

With the blade rubbing against her throat, I gave it one good push and— off popped her head like a grape! I smiled as the blood squirted out and sprayed all over me. It was a good thing I sharpened the hatchet before I went out! Otherwise…

The policemen went back around to the other side of the building a few minutes after her body burst into ash, and I climbed down the fire escape once the coast was clear. Work was done for tonight, another vampire bit the dust— no pun intended— and their species was just that much closer to extinction. I'd say that night went pretty well.

I hopped down from the last step on the fire escape, and just as I turned to walk out of the alley, I saw the boyfriend of the vampire standing right in front of me with a pair of scissors in his hand— the pointed end out. I looked between him and the scissors.

"And _what_ do you intend to do with those?" I asked. His hands were trembling; tears were streaming down his round baby-face. But even though I was only a moment away from getting stabbed, I was indifferent to his pain. He was a vamp lover. A blood traitor. I felt no sympathy for him.

He didn't say anything, and he didn't move either. He looked like he didn't know if he was ready to commit murder or not. A coward_ and_ a blood traitor. I stepped forward, and he stepped back. "So…its revenge… Well, go on, do it. If you think it'll make you happy— then do it. I won't stop you."

At first, it looked as though my cool-headed response startled him. But then, he took it as an invitation. He lunged at me with the scissors, but I stepped out of the way and hit his wrist with the grip on my gun, knocking the scissors out of his hands and onto the ground. When he fell to the ground and crawled after them, I kicked them away with my foot. They hit a near-by dumpster with a _clang_.

I left him there, and as I walked down the alley toward the parking lot, I was followed by his choked sobbing as they echoed off the walls.

"That was close," Klaus said as I crossed the parking lot. I shrugged.

"I suppose so. Hey, has Geoffrey already done the laundry? I need him to wash the blood out of my jacket."

"Hold on, I'll go ask." He said. I slid behind the wheel while he was gone, and by the time he'd come back I'd gotten the car started and was trying to find an open spot to merge into city traffic. "He said he already did the wash, but he'll throw in your jacket when you get back."

"Okay, tell him I said thank you,"

"Will do."

I turned on the radio and listened to the hosts of a late-night radio talk show interview a comedian making juvenile sex jokes as I drove home. I smiled once or twice at the comedian's jokes, and quite a few times I nearly howled from laughter.

It was a long drive home, but once I left city limits, I was allowed to kick my Rolls Royce Phantom into high-gear and speed along through the darkness like a shot until I pulled up to the big iron gates that guarded my mansion. The right front gate had a black iron plaque that had BAILEY etched out of the iron.

"Klaus, buzz me in." I said.

It was only a few moments later that a loud buzzing noise was heard and the gates opened up to let me in. In the front of my mansion, the long driveway in the front was made out of vanilla colored cobblestone and had a large fountain that shined a bright blue when it got dark. Aside from the well-kept trees, bushes, and flowerbeds that decorated the edge of the large cobblestone path, the front of my mansion wasn't really anything to marvel at.

I parked my car in the garage and went into the house. My house was older than me, my father, and my mother all put together. It had been built so long ago that nobody believed my great-grandfather could renovate it and keep it from falling into ruin along with the rest of the buildings from yesteryear. But he did it, and when my grandfather modernized it, people thought the same thing about him. My father hadn't tried to do much with it, but the moment I inherited my family's money, I built a shooting range, an office for Klaus, an extensive gymnasium, and an indoor pool— all the things that, had someone else built them, would probably have seemed excessive. But when you make your living hunting vampires, you need somewhere to keep yourself fit. It's practical, and I could write it off as a business expense if the Black Glove Society would let me.

Geoffrey met me just before I went down the hall on the first floor, and I gave him my jacket to wash. He had certainly aged since I was that scared little girl of thirteen who watched her parents die. But he was still that same, sweet man who stepped in and took care of Klaus and me when nobody else wanted to.

"Thanks again, Geoffrey," I said, smiling. He smiled back at me pleasantly.

"It's my job, Lady Bailey." I hated when he called me Lady Bailey. You'd think that raising me for a lot of my life would've been grounds to call me Alice. But he thought it was unprofessional, so he didn't.

I found Klaus in his office with an English book open in his lap.

"You didn't do your homework yet?" I asked, my voice sounding rather cross to my own ears. He shrugged, as if he wasn't doing anything particularly important.

"Mrs. Jennings wouldn't give us time to do it in class, so, yeah. But I'm almost done."

Anyone else would've gotten mad that he waited until ten thirty to do his English homework, but then again, I'm pretty sure that most thirteen-year-old kids don't have an IQ score of 138 and invent half the stuff their big sister uses on vampire hunting jobs. The stuff that's responsible for keeping her _alive _most of the time.

So instead of getting mad at him like anyone else would, I just asked him one question before I headed up to my room to crash for the night.

"Who was that guy with the redhead tonight?"

He looked up at me from his English book with a stupid grin on his face. "Why? Interested in being his rebound?"

"Don't be stupid. I don't date ghouls." Ghouls, by the way, are what humans that are fed vampire blood in exchange for letting their vampire feed off them. A blood whore, if you want to be blunt about it. While the method in which a human is turned into a vampire is to be drunk from then fed blood— a human can become a blood whore by drinking vampire blood once a month. During that one month, vampires can feed off them. But a vampire needs to be sure that they feed their ghouls _before _feeding off them, because if a vampire forgets to feed the ghoul first, the ghoul is turned into a vampire. As long as the blood whore gets its fix, it ages about 10x slower than a human, is twice as strong, and its senses go wild. The drawbacks? Vamp blood is crazy addictive, and being a blood whore usually results in a lifetime of slavery and abuse to get their fix.

_That_ I learned at the academy kiddies.

Klaus snickered to himself as he leaned over his book and clicked a few keys on his keyboard. Watching him type on his computer always made me think of a joke by one of my favorite comedians about how computer geeks in the movies never operate computers like a normal person. Klaus— he was a Hollywood stereotype computer geek if there ever was one. He even had a round baby-face that could possibly get a legion of fan girls to melt at his feet.

"Looks like Ghoul bachelor number one's name is Justin Adams. Looks like he's the youngest son of Governor Adams, you know the one, from across the pond. There's not much else on him, apparently, he was engaged to that vampire you just killed and had gone to Harvard, but had dropped out a year later. Real good use of daddy's money."

"He's extraordinarily un-extraordinary," I said. "Ah well, thanks for looking him up for me. I'm exhausted, so I'm going to crash. Make sure to get that English done."

"Will do boss lady," Klaus said, saluting me. I saluted him back. I hurried upstairs to my room, where I took a long, hot shower to wash away the blood, dirt, and death from that night. After my bath I dressed in my cute blue-and-white David and Goliath jammies with the rock rolling across my breasts with "This is how I roll" written underneath it, and crawled underneath my blankets and crashed for the night.

At nine o' clock that next morning, my cell phone rang. I was pulled out of sleep, cursing myself for not turning the volume down on my phone. It was too damn early. I reached out from under the covers and groped around on my nightstand for my little blue cell phone with the flip-down keyboard, finding and answering it just before I missed the call.

"Yeah?" I answered sleepily.

"Are you _still _asleep?" asked a very familiar voice playfully. I knew right away that it was Victor. The only person at BGS who knew my cell phone number.

"Shut up," I said. "Not everyone works the dayshift Mr. Vampire Mythology teacher."

He laughed. "Oh yeah, throw _that_ in my face. _Real _mature."

I turned over onto my back and rubbed my eyes with my wrist. "Is there any real reason you called?"

"Shadow and Illusion want you down here ASAP. They've got a job for you to do."

"Is there a reason they couldn't just email me this target?"

"They didn't give me a reason. They sent a guy who sent a guy, who sent a guy, who sent me to tell you to come and talk to them."

I couldn't say no. Damn it. If Shadow and Illusion told a girl to jump, she damn well better ask how high. I nodded, although I knew he couldn't see me. "Alright, Let me get dressed and I'll be there by eleven. Sound good?"

"Sounds great, see you then princess." Princess was his nickname for me sometimes. We both said goodbye and I hung up my phone. It took me a minute to get up, but once I did it was a quick monotonous routine to getting ready. I put on a black t-shirt, a pair of black denim jeans, my silver cross (I didn't think I'd need it, but better safe than sorry), my black combat boots, and finally my black trench coat.

The house seemed empty as I went down the stairs to the garage, but then I found Aaliyah laying under one of my motorcycles, fixing something that had been broken on it. She told me what it was, but I was so oblivious to mechanic talk that it went in one ear and out the other.

Aaliyah was a strong, brilliant, accomplished mechanic who also happened to be one of my best friends. She had grown up in one of those male-dominated households with a father and three older brothers who taught her that she had to fight back or get spit on. These lessons she took with her into the real world. Believe it or not, we met at the academy. She and I were in the same herbology 101 class and her major was vampire weaponry. She learned how to engineer powerful and effective weapons against vampires and that, coupled with her natural talent for fixing cars and such, made her an invaluable member of my team.

"Good morning sunshine," I said to her as I walked around my car and leaned against the passenger side door. "Up with the chickens are we?"

"You know me," she said laughing, still under the bike. "Where you headed off to so early? I don't usually see you until around five or six."

"Victor wants me to go into BGS this morning. He said Shadow and Illusion want to talk to me."

"Oh? About what?"

"I don't know yet. That's where I'm headed."

"Then you best get a move on, don't want to keep the head honchos waiting."

I nodded, and after we said goodbye, I went around to the driver's side, started up my 2009 Rolls Royce Phantom, and drove off toward the Black Glove Society London headquarters.

The headquarters for the London division of the Black Glove Society is one of the most extensive places of study you will ever find in the whole city. The building itself was considered a piece of art, being a vanilla-and-red-bricked chateau with roughly 51,210 square miles of floor space, over seven hundred rooms, sixty-seven staircases and approximately 5,210 pieces of furniture and art, it simply screamed elegance.

Whatever was ailing you, you could find a hunter for at the headquarters: Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, Aliens, Ghosts— and every other creature of the night I've never seen. If its inhuman, there's someone getting trained at the Black Glove Society to hunt it. Not only did experienced hunters sometimes get their assignments here, but novice hunters came here to train. If you're a hunter, you're free to come and go as you please. But if you're a novice, you have to stay in the dormitories, as if you were in college. I was glad I didn't have to live there anymore. I hated sharing a room with two other girls.

I was surprised to find a new secretary sitting behind the broad, polished mahogany desk. A little black nameplate had the words "Ms. Michaels" etched into it. She was young, maybe nineteen or twenty, with shoulder-length brown hair that curled around her heart-shaped face like a cloud. She had big, matching brown eyes that seemed to grow when I walked up to her.

"I'm here to see Victor David," I said. "Could you call and tell him Alice is here?"

She nodded shakily. "Yes ma'am,"

I leaned against the desk and watched as the phone jumped around in her nervous hands, and her fingers fidgeted as they scanned the keys for the right numbers. She hit the wrong one and swore under her breath.

"S-Sorry…" She whispered, "I-I'm new and…"

"Its fine," I said with a smile on my face. "I'll just wait over here." She nodded at me and went back to fighting with the phone while I went to sit down on the sofa.

"M-Mr. David says he'll be here in a moment," she said after a very brief conversation with him. I thanked her, and decided to pass the time reading an outdated _Cosmo _magazine that I found sitting on the table nearby. Right when I was about to read the 57th reason to stay single, Victor came to greet me.

"Glad you're here princess," he said, "I was afraid the bosses were gonna go ape-shit. Come on back to the classroom with me, I've got planning period this hour." Victor had aged quite a bit over the last thirteen years, but that's to be expected. Noticeable streaks of silver ran through his dark hair, and his face was starting to get creases around his eyes, mouth, and forehead. He was getting older, too old to hunt effectively, so he was given a teaching job instead. This wasn't something that was done for every hunter but, even though I knew he would rather die in battle than waste the rest of his life teaching snot-nosed freshmen their vampire ABC's, Victor took it. He had a wife and two eighteen year old kids to take care of.

Walking through those halls again brought back a lot of memories. I remembered being eighteen, my heart fluttering around in my chest at the prospect of being a real honest-to-god vampire hunter; I remembered meeting my first real friends; and I remembered finally feeling like a normal person instead of a freak. It was if the walls were whispering to me, making me see ghosts of my life at the academy.

Victor's classroom was pretty impressive. The desks were all long and made of mahogany wood, while his own desk was just a normal computer desk without a computer. Although that was quickly explained when he pulled a shiny, new-looking laptop out from the top drawer.

"Nice place," I said as I grabbed a chair and pulled it over to his desk."These are lucky kids; they get to learn from the great Victor David."

He shrugged it off. "I'd rather teach in the gym. At least that way I get to kill something. Here, the only red liquid I get to shed is the ink in my pen."

I watched as he lifted up the lid on the laptop, and once he got it started up, he turned it around so I could see that a webcam chat window was opened up and I could only see the silhouette of the person on the other end. This was Shadow, one of the two mysterious leaders of the Black Glove Society London Division.

"Good morning Ms. Bailey," Shadow said. Her voice was smooth, with an undertone of being digitally muffled. Kind of what I imagine Darth Vader would've sounded like if he had been a woman. "I apologize for my sister's absence; she had pressing matters to attend to. I don't like to beat around the bush, so I'm going to get right to the point. The vampire research department has recently turned our attention to a vampire related murder that occurred on St. Anne's street late last night. I've called you here because I've been led to believe that, if properly motivated, you're just the woman to find the killers for us."

"I'm afraid you've been lied to," I said. "I play for fun."

"Ah yes. I forget sometimes that you're not in this for the money like all the other hunters."

"It certainly doesn't hurt."

She went on, ignoring my comment. "That's precisely why I've decided to give this job to you, Ms. Bailey. I figured this would be a game you'd love to play." She held up the silhouette of something rectangular and clicked it with her thumb. A picture of a woman in maybe her mid-to-late twenties with curly red hair appeared on the screen. "This is Megan Wright, found dead at around seven o' clock this morning."

"I'm not a researcher," I said, "Why can't you get someone from the research department to do it? Isn't that what they're trained to do?"

"You're a hunter, aren't you?" She was starting to get irritated; I could hear it in her voice. "I want you to find the murderer or murderers and hunt them down."

I wanted to argue some more. I wanted to tell her that I wasn't good at researching and my hunting skills only really pertain to the killing portion of the process. Researchers tell me where to go, and after that it's a pretty simple formula: hunt them down and kill them. Simple, easy to remember. But in the grand scheme of things, I didn't have a choice anyway. Whether or not I wanted to, Shadow wanted me to, and her word was law.

"Alright," I said, trying not to sound too defeated.

"Wonderful," The irritation in her voice had completely dissipated, and she was back to sounding silky and like a woman Darth Vader. "You are to report to the morgue as soon as we're done here, there you'll meet a hunter by the name of Larson. He will be your new partner."


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two**

BGS had a morgue on the third floor, and for good reason. If a vampire— or any of the other paranormal stuff we studied here for that matter, the morgue doesn't discriminate— kills someone and it got into the hands of the local authorities, they would probably find out that vampires existed and if that happens, they would want to try and make them legal. A+B+C= me losing my job, and that shit don't fly.

Before I left Victor's classroom, he had given me a golden police badge. It was a fake, of course, but it would get me through most roadblocks that would come my way. Shadow and Illusion had it delivered to him before I'd arrived with instructions to give it to me. I was grateful for it, but to be fair, I'd be grateful for anything that would make this easier.

As I walked up the stairs on my way to the morgue, I couldn't help but obsess over why— out of all the hunters who would've given their left toes for this job— Shadow would choose _me_ for it. There were hunters with twice as much experience with just as much initiative as I did, so why choose me? But what bothered me more than why they chose me was the fact that they had assigned for me to work _with _somebody. The only partners I've ever had are Klaus, Aaliyah, and Miles— and they didn't count because they stayed at the mansion while I went out to work. Nobody got in my way, and nobody but the monsters I hunted had to die because of me. I knew I wouldn't like working with whoever Shadow had me working with, but damn it! I didn't have a choice.

The whole morgue was a dingy, vanilla white room with a fairly-large metal table set up in front of what looked to me like a sink. The east wall was a storage container made completely out of metal and housed the bodies until the traces of paranormal influences were covered up and they were taken away to be buried. There were cabinets full of supplies, and in the middle of the room were two men. One with thinning white hair and a white lab coat, and another one with a baby-face and brown hair that went down to his ears. Subconsciously, I thought that the second one was pretty cute.

"You must be Ms. Bailey," said the old man in the lab coat, extending his hand for me to shake. "I'm Dr. Patterson, the chief medical examiner for BGS."

"Pleased to meet you," I said, shaking his hand with a rather polite smile on my face.

"I'm James Larson," said the brown-haired cutie, "So I guess this means you and I are working together on this."

Unlike with Dr. Patterson, I didn't shake James' hand. Instead, I said, "You sound American."

"That's because I am," he told me sheepishly. "Shadow and Illusion phoned the BGS headquarters in LA and asked for them to send one of their best over here for an important job, so they picked me."

I crossed my arms. "Seems like a rather conceited thing to say. So Dr. Patterson, tell me, what do we know so far?"

He laughed, I think at my crossness with my new partner, and handed me a manila folder that he picked up from the fairly-large metal table. I flipped it open and looked through it while he got the body out of the freezer. I saw a little slip of paper in the folder that said that Megan had been found by her daughter, Emily Wright, age ten. A shiver went down my spine. Poor kid…

"I warn you," he said, "She's not going to be pretty."

Ever since I entered the academy, I have been close to dead bodies an almost disturbing amount of times. But when Dr. Patterson pulled Megan Wright's body out of the freezer, I felt my stomach do a back flip. Probably from surprise.

There is just something about seeing a dead body in a morgue that is a bit more intimidating than seeing it on the street. As I looked at Megan Wright, laying on the gurney, frozen in the moment of death like a poor victim of Pompey, an ominous shiver ran down my spine.

Her big, ghostly eyes were wide, as if her killer had gotten her from behind or everything had happened so quickly that she couldn't think of anything besides being surprised, and she had a big, red, jagged gash across her throat.

I bit the inside of my lip to keep my composure.

"Four stab wounds to the stomach," Dr. Patterson said, pulling the blanket-like covering down, revealing her bleak sallow nakedness and the morbid "Y" shaped dissection stitches to point around under her ribs were several big, clean slices were. "But the thing that did her in was the big gash across her throat. All of this was done with what looks to me like a common house-hold ceramic knife. "

"How can you be so sure it's that kind of knife?" I asked. He smiled at me and lifted a labeled plastic bag off the counter, which held what looked like a tiny medal triangle.

"Do you know what happens to ceramic knives when you try to cut bone?" He asked. I must not have looked like I knew, because he went on. "They chip, sometimes they even break. We were lucky that, when our perpetrator stabbed Ms. Wright, the knife inadvertently hit one of her ribs and broke off the tip of the blade. I even extracted a piece of broken rib not too far from where I found the knife tip."

"Anything else?"

Dr. Patterson shrugged. "Not on my end."

"So what now?" James asked, his sudden voice making me jump. He had been quiet for so long that I almost forgot he was there.

I opened the manila folder again and looked at the papers inside. "I guess our first stop is Megan's apartment. Seems to me like a good place to start."

"Megan Wright's apartment it is."

James and I both thanked Dr. Patterson for his help, then left. The plan was that he would just follow me, but before we each got into our cars, I wrote out Megan Wright's address on a receipt I had crumpled up in one of my cup holders just in case he got lost. As he took the receipt out of my hand, he said "nice car, by the way," with a smile and went back to his own car before I had a chance to respond.

I was glad he didn't get lost on the way to the apartment. It would've been beyond irritating if I had to stand around and wait for him. It would've been even more irritating if he was one of those people who couldn't read my handwriting and he wound up driving around London for an hour trying to find the place.

The apartment building looked to be about three stories high, gray, and somewhat dingy. At first I thought that maybe the inside would look a little more inviting than the outside, but I was wrong. Actually, with its peeling vanilla wallpaper and shouting coming from one of the rooms, I couldn't imagine why someone would rent an apartment here. Limited funds or not.

James and I took the elevator up to Megan Wright's apartment, which was on the second floor. It was just as run-down looking as the first floor, except it had a potted plant sitting across from the elevator door that didn't do much to cheer anything up.

Megan Wright's apartment was number 323, at the end of the hall.

"The file said," I began as we walked down the hall, "that her mother was staying with Megan and her daughter until Megan's ex-husband comes back from an overseas business trip."

"Divorced?" James asked.

"That's what the file said, at least." I said.

"Do you think _he_ could have something to do with it?" he asked. I shrugged.

"I don't know."

We stopped at 323 and I knocked on the door. No one opened it, but a woman spoke to us from the other side.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is… Alex Braxton—" I lied about my name so she couldn't do any background checking. I hoped for a moment that Aaliyah wouldn't mind that I stole her last name. "— I'm investigating the death of your daughter and want to ask you a few questions." I heard nothing more from Megan Wright's mother after that, not until I heard the jingling sound of the door being unlocked. James and I waited outside until she opened the door.

Lindsay Harold was a woman whose features where that of a strong woman. Her high cheekbones and pointed chin made me think of a business woman, maybe in advertising, using her dark looks to threaten her opponent into submission. Judging by the tasteful pants-suit she was wearing, she probably had a lot of money.

"You don't look like investigators." Lindsay said to me, crossing her arms under her breasts and looking down at me from over the rims of her sharp glasses. I dug into my pocket and showed her the badge that Victor had given me before I left.

"Looks can be deceiving." I replied bluntly. She looked from me, to James, to back at me before nodding.

"I suppose they can, please come in." James and I walked past her and into the cozy little apartment with vanilla ice cream colored walls and fresh looking white carpet. Lindsay must have done some cleaning before we got there. "I'm Lindsay Harold."

"This is my partner, James Larson," I said. He nodded politely at her as a quiet way of saying hello. "Let's start at the beginning. Did your daughter have any enemies?"

"Other than her worthless ex-husbands alcoholic friends? No, none." I had to try and sift through the bitterness and try and find the truth in her statement, and that wasn't easy. I nodded.

"Do you think any of her ex's friends could have done this?" She hesitated, and then shook her head.

"They're apes, yes, but not killers. If you met them, Miss Bailey, you would know that they don't have the stomach strength to kill her."

"Do you mind if we take a look around?"

"That _is_ your job."

I found myself thinking she could be nicer, but I didn't care for too long. James and I searched Megan's bedroom, but found nothing helpful. I hated knowing that Lindsay was standing behind me, watching us with those vicious hawk eyes. It made me uncomfortable. Around the time I was starting to get discouraged, I asked Lindsay if I might be able to ask Megan's daughter a few questions.

"Of course not!" she snapped, "I won't have you hounding her!"

I shook my head quickly. "I don't plan to hound her, I assure you. Just a couple of questions and that's all."

Honestly, I didn't think she'd let me. Why would she? Megan's daughter couldn't have had anything to do with this, and based on what I've seen from crime shows, anyone who is questioned automatically thinks they're a suspect. I was about to add that it was just a formality when Lindsay gave me permission to ask her granddaughter a few questions.

"Just don't hound her!" she added, and I agreed not to.

I'll admit; I expected a bubbly blond girl to be in the room playing with her toys and being completely ignorant to what was going on around her. Instead, I found a bleak looking ten year old sitting in a child-sized rocking chair in front of the window, slowly rocking back and forth.

"Emily?" I whispered her name. I was doing the best I could at being gentle; I understood the pain the little girl was going through. She gave no more acknowledgment to my existence than anyone else would to a piece of dust. "Emily, my name is Alex, and I'm investigating what happened to your mother." She didn't do anything; just continue to rock back and forth in her rocking chair.

I sat on her bed and tried to get a look at her face, but all I saw was the shadow of a once happy child. Her hair fell limp against her oval-shaped face, her eyes were wide with a lot of whites showing, the blue in her eyes looking small and empty. Like an ocean whose fish had been all caught. She had shadows under her eyes, and her face was so pale you'd think she was dead.

She didn't look at me, and I didn't make her. It was hard to remain soft and gentle when she wasn't telling me anything about what happened. But it was easy for me to understand her, she and I shared a similar past.

"I know it's scary," I started again; "I went through the same thing when I was a kid. Can you tell me—?"

"I didn't see anything." She interrupted. The sound of her rough, broken voice made me jump a little. I wasn't really expecting her to say anything.

"Did she go somewhere last night?" I asked and she slowly nodded. "Where?" she didn't say anything, she just went back to staring out the window. I stared at a pile of her toys, trying to find a way to get through to her. I didn't come up with anything. "If you know anything, can you please tell me?"

"I didn't see anything," She insisted strongly. "She didn't get up to take me to school, and when I went to wake her up, I found her…like that. But that's all I saw."

I wanted to keep asking her questions, but I didn't. How could I? If she knew anything, I was sure she would've told me. Hounding her would just make things worse.

"Okay, thank you." I said before getting off her bed and walking out. I was trying to think of a way to get a lead; it would have been so much easier for me if I was a trained in the field of crime solving.

"Wait."

I stopped in the doorway of her room and turned around to face her.

She picked up an old-looking teddy bear from beside her rocking chair and tore into its back with her fingers.

"I found this in my mom's hand." From inside the bear, she produced a rust colored coin covered in dried blood. I went to her and she dropped it into the palm of my hand as if it was of no importance to her. I held it, admiring the bloomed lotus design on its face.

I'd seen it before. My mother had one just like it.

"Do you know what this is?" I asked. She shook her head.

"I never saw it before," I looked at her and then down at the bloody coin she gave me. I enclosed my fingers around it, it being the only clue we had.

"Thank you, Emily." I softly said. My voice was barely audible to even myself; I never knew if she heard it or not. Looking at Emily, I saw a reflection of myself during the weeks after my parents' death. I was…empty, broken, like a ghost floating through what had once been my home. I wanted to extend to Emily the same kind of kindness that Victor had given to me, but I couldn't.

She didn't have a chance to say anything else. James had come up behind me and called me out into the hallway for a moment. I nodded and followed him out, quietly saying goodbye to Emily as I left.

He led me out into the hallway and shut Emily's door behind us. Whatever it was, I was guessing that he didn't want Emily to hear it.

"The mother told me where Megan went right before she died." I felt my insides alight with excitement and hope. We had a lead, and it provided us with a new direction. I was smiling; I could feel it on my face.

"Really? Where?"

"The Morgue."


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three**

When James said 'the Morgue', he wasn't talking about a place where dead bodies are stored until further notice. I didn't realize it right away, but he was talking about a fairly popular night club downtown with the same name. I had only been down that way frequently during the course of my career, since this was a place where creatures of the night liked to congregate— human Goths and vampires alike.

It was like a safari for vampire hunters. If you were a bloodsucker and looking for a good time, the Morgue was the place to be. But with as many vampire hunters that hunt there, you had to be smart to survive. If you were, you got to come back to enjoy one more night of loud music and dancing. If not… well, let's just say you'll get your membership revoked.

Because of how often I'd been there, James let me lead the way. We each got into our cars and he followed behind me as close as he could— practically riding my ass the whole way. We got there around eight or so and parked a few blocks away from the club. We needed to keep out of sight of whatever vampires might already be at the club, and make ourselves seem less conspicuous. I would like to say I was completely comfortable leaving my car on the side of the street alone, but truthfully, it made me nervous. People were eyeing it.

The Morgue was a building that modeled itself with neo-gothic architecture and a big sign with THE MORGUE glowing in bright yellow, green, and hot pink neon. James and I stood together across the street from the club, watching people go in and out for a moment.

"Before we go in," I said, "I want you to know that, odds are, we're going to get in a fight. I won't baby-sit you. You're going to have to be able to hold your own against anyone who might want to kill you. I'll watch you're back as well as I can if you watch mine, but I won't do all the fighting."

"You really don't think that much of me, do you?" That was one of those questions that, once asked, are usually followed by 'Wait, don't answer that' because he knew the answer. Apparently, his question was serious. I didn't need to be mean to him, so I stayed quiet. If I couldn't say anything nice, I shouldn't say anything at all.

I had to hide my holy-water filled cross, but it was still comforting to feel the cold, transparent metal against my skin. We went into the club with a group of pale humans dressed in black— I can't say how I knew they were humans, there was just something about them that said 'human'— blending in almost seamlessly. That's why I liked my work clothes. It's surprising how well a long black trench coat, black hip-hugger jeans, a black t-shirt, and black combat boots make you blend in with a vampire's surroundings. They thought nothing of me. I was just another face in the crowd.

The lights from the dance floor bathed the whole lower half of the club in dark green, purple, and yellow lights. Behind the bar was a steady green light that kept everything from looking gaudy or tacky. If there was anything I liked about the Morgue, it was that.

We approached the bartender as he served a glass of wine— or at least it looked like wine. It was hard to tell in this lighting— to a young couple in black with unusually colored highlights in their hair. The bartender was twice my size, with a big Chinese dragon tattooed down his meaty arm.

"What can I get for you, beautiful?" He asked, his voice rough like gravel. My gut told me he was human.

"Information, do you know this girl?" I asked as I produced the photo Megan Wright's mother had given us to use in the investigation. He leaned over a little to see it, but then shook his head.

"Her? I've seen her around here before. We get a lot of weirdoes in this joint that it's hard to forget a sweet young thing like that. No tattoos, no piercings, no black make-up— I think she had two screwdrivers, one white Russian, and half a moonshine."

"Is it safe to drink that much?"

He shrugged. "Probably not, but the poor girl looked so depressed that I gave her what she wanted. She talked to me while she drank the white Russian— that's what we bartenders are for. We're like priests in that way. She told me that her husband was going to take her kid away. I felt bad for her. After that, I think some guy came up to her. He was real sweet on her, and I think she liked the attention, because when he asked her to go into the back room with him, she went with a big ol' smile on her face."

"What'd this guy look like?"

"Um…I don't know. Kinda tall, kinda pale. Dark hair I think..." Yeah,_ that_ narrowed it down. "Sorry, I can't remember much about him. Why're you askin' about that girl anyway?"

"She's dead."

"Dead…?" He echoed, his eyes growing to the size of saucers for a moment. I could've sworn I saw a hint of sadness in them. "That's a damn shame. She was such a sweet little thing, loved her kid too."

"This guy, was he a regular?" James asked from behind me all-of-a-sudden. The bartender raised one of his thick black eyebrows.

"Do you know many people we get a night that follow that description? Too many for me to remember if he was a regular or not."

"Yeah." I said over my shoulder to him, adding "brainchild" under my breath. I didn't know if he heard me or not, but if he did, he gave no indication of it. "You mentioned a back room before, where is it?"

"Right behind you, actually. It's where customers can go to just drink and lounge around, management's idea. Doesn't seem like a bad one to me, we make money off the drinks, not the dancing."

"Do you mind if we take a look?"

He shook his head. "Go ahead. No skin off my back."

I thanked the bartender, and then went to the back room with James following behind me like a puppy. The back room was almost completely dark, the only light being a steadily glowing blacklight. There was a whole group of people sitting on the long corner couch, sipping at glasses of various sizes. Some of the men had women in short dresses leaning against them, laughing and kissing.

This whole room just screamed _Vampire_

I took Megan's picture from James and held it up so everyone could see it. "Does anyone know this girl?"

They looked among each other as if they didn't know how to answer, and then one of the men spoke up. He was pale with dark spiked hair and bold black eyeliner. When he smiled, I saw two tiny, pointed teeth.

"I'm sorry miss, but it doesn't look like any of us have seen her." I didn't believe him, I never believed bloodsuckers, but I made sure he didn't know that.

Another vampire got up and whispered something in his ear. His eyebrows raised and his eyes got wide.

"_Really_?" He asked, sounding impressed. "So _this _is the legendary White Bandit?" White Bandit was the name I had among vampires, like Bruce Wayne had Batman. Mine was in reference to my stark white hair. "Somehow, I imagined you'd be bigger."

I hated to admit it, but it was true. Being only five-four and one-ten, I didn't come off as intimidating. Shorter than most of the men at BGS, people just automatically assume I'm a weak little girl. But what I lack in size I make up for in skill.

"Shut up! Did you hurt her or not?" I snapped, brushing my hand subtly against my gun to comfort myself.

"Are you hard of hearing? I told you, nobody has seen her."

"That's not what we heard; we heard she was brought back here on the night she was killed, so _someone _must've seen her."

"Maybe we didn't come in that night."

"Then where were you?"

His smile, which had fallen at some point during the conversation, grew once again across his face, bigger this time.

"Having _dinner_…"

"Where?" I asked.

"I'm not just going to _tell_ you, Little Bandit, I know better." He wasn't a fledgling, but he also wasn't as old as most of the vampires in the city. He was maybe…ten, twenty years out of life. But that was just an estimate. "But maybe you can…_convince_ me to tell you."

He had me backed up against the wall with his arms on both sides of me, so I would have to duck under them to escape. James started to come to my rescue, but I stopped him.

"Don't," I warned, "We need the information." He stepped back; and I saw concern growing in his face. The vampire gave him a toothy grin before pushing my hair behind my ear; exposing my neck. He slowly lowered his mouth to my neck, ready to drink my blood; I could feel his hunger rising within him.

In one swift movement, I grabbed my gun and fired it into his heart. He staggered back, clutching the bloody bullet wound that had flowered on his chest. Everyone that had been sitting on the sofa jumped up instantly, some of the girls beginning to scream, as the man that I shot writhed in pain on the floor. He may not have been killed, but the bullet in his heart left him paralyzed and helpless.

That seemed to be the catalyst for what happened next.

I tumbled out of the way as one of the vampires produced a small revolver from the pockets of his leather jeans and fired at me. That single shot had the same effect as opening up the gates of hell; because before the ringing had even subsided, the demons were already breaking loose their inhibitions, lunging at James and I like wolves— teeth barred and a thirst for blood.

I shot one in the head while she was still in mid air, and another as he stepped over her paralyzed corpse. I tried to keep an eye on James. I had hoped that we wouldn't get into a fight together until I had a chance to see how well he could handle a gun, but even though I wasn't_ that_ lucky, I _was _lucky enough that, when I found time to notice, he was doing a fairly good job.

"Look out!" He shouted, pointing his gun and blowing away the face of a vampire that had come up behind me.

"Thanks," I breathed, kicking one in the stomach and shooting his heart.

"No problem."

Suddenly, a horrible pain erupted in my arm. After I screamed and looked, I saw a bloody wound blossom on my sleeve—the warm, thick liquid running down my arm. James shot the vampire that shot me, and I shot two more through the pain, not bothering to try and keep a lid on my sailor mouth.

The fight didn't last long not only because we weren't really fighting that many vampires, but also because someone had called the police and we could hear the loud sirens screaming from outside. Not _right _outside, but pretty damn close.

"Let's split up," I said, trying to keep my voice down so nobody would hear me. "I'll go one way and you go the other. We'll meet back at the car when we can."

"Sounds good to me. Just…be careful."

I could've told him I would. I could've said that this sort of thing happens all the time and that I'd be fine, but I didn't. I just led the way through the metal back door that led to the alley. He went down a path straight ahead that went behind the two buildings next door, and I ran along the path that led behind the Morgue. Once I knew I was safe, I threw myself against the wall and tried to breathe.

Damn it my arm hurt… and I was losing a lot of blood. It was hard to catch my breath with my heart hammering away against my chest like it was.

"Well look whose here," said a voice from somewhere in the darkness, "that was quite an entertaining performance."

"Whose there?" I asked, something inside telling me this was a vampire. From out of the shadows stepped a man with pallid skin and copper hair, dressed in black from head to toe. "Who the hell are you?"

"I could ask you the same question— if I didn't already know. You're the White Bandit, but that's not your only alias, is it?" He asked, so smug that I wanted to punch him right in the jaw. I kept my distance, bringing my hand up to my cross and pulling it out from under my shirt. He stayed back, seeming as though the cross didn't bother him at all.

"Tell me who you are right now or I swear to god—"

"You'll kill me?" he finished for me, smiling big enough for me to see his fangs poking out. "Do you really think that's wise? I know you're investigating the supposed vampire-related death of that girl— so would you really kill someone who might have some information for you?"

I paused, but kept my guns out in front of me. "…I'm listening."

"First, I have some questions of my own, if you don't mind."

"Make it quick."

"Have you found one of these pretty things?" He asked, producing a copper coin from the pocket of his black velvet coat. It looked like a twin of the one Megan Wright's daughter had given me.

"Where did you find that?"

"Doesn't matter, but what _does _matter is what it does."

"And what is that?"

"You don't know?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "If I did, would I be asking?" He shrugged his shoulders. I could feel the blood sliding down my arm… and I was starting to get dizzy. I could see the hunger in his eyes— rising, pulsating… how long would it be before he tried to take a bite out of me?

"You seem nervous. Worried that I'll bite?" He asked, smug as hell. "Don't worry little Bandit, hunters never quench my thirst."

I didn't know if I should've been happy about that or not. Regardless, I let it go and said, "Now tell me your information before I decide to blow your head off anyway."

Another vampire emerged from out of the shadows like a ghost. He looked older than the copper haired vampire— he had many more creases at the corners of his eyes and near his mouth, looking almost like he was in his early to mid fifties before he was turned. I pointed one of my guns at him, just in case.

"Hello Barnabas," the copper haired vampire greeted cordially.

"What did you find out?" the older vampire asked right off the bat. No wasting time with hellos for him.

"She doesn't know anything," copper hair told him. "She seems to recognize it, but outside of that, nothing."

Barnabas frowned very deeply. "Then there's no use in wasting our time with her. Come on Fang, we should go before she decides to try and kill us."

I was tempted to shoot them before they could leave, and even though every fiber in my body told me to do it, I didn't. But as they walked away, I heard Barnabas telling Fang that "Nikole won't be happy about this."

That name clicked. I knew Nikole.

She'd been dead for five years.

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**A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry it took so long for me to update this xD lost interest there for a little bit, but I'm back with Chapter Three! I hope everyone enjoyed it :3 Please Review!**


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

"Nikole's dead!" I shouted after them. They stopped and turned to face me.

"Are you so sure of that?" Fang asked.

Was I sure? I had been until he said that. But once he made me stop and think about it, I couldn't really be sure.

"Come Fang, we need to go." Barnabas said from a few steps away.

With a swish of his auburn hair, Fang returned to Barnabas and the two of them disappeared into the night, leaving me too dumbstruck to move.

After a moment of standing there like an idiot, I began to move, and before I knew it I found myself walking toward the cars, where James was waiting for me. I must've looked alarmed or something, because the minute James saw me, he immediately asked "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

I looked at him, processing what he was asking, then shook my head. "I'm fine."

The plan was to just get in my car and go home. Pretty simple, right? I thought so too, but when I opened the door and started getting in, James stopped me.

"I don't think you should drive home."

"Why not?" I asked, thinking of my hurt arm. I knew I probably wouldn't be okay to drive, I just didn't want to let _him _know that.

"You've probably lost too much blood. I mean, you might be fine, but it's better not to take the risk of you passing out behind the wheel."

"Well, I'm not going to leave my car here."

"Don't you have any friends that could come pick it up?" He asked. I thought of Miles, and the likelihood that he'd been drinking, then immediately discarded the idea. The likelihood that Miles had been drinking was the same as the likelihood of there being a five o' clock after four thirty. Either Aaliyah or Geoffrey would be the most likely choice.

"Damn it," I swore, digging out my cell phone with the arm that wasn't in horrible pain. As I dialed the phone, I made a conscious effort not to make any kind of face that would tell James how much the bullet lodged in my arm was hurting. It would only further his ridiculous concern. Klaus was the one who picked up on the third ring. "Hey Klaus, it's me. Can you send either Aaliyah or Geoffrey down to the Morgue— yes the night club— to get my car? Long story. Yes, yes, yes I know; I'll tell you everything later. Okay, thanks Klaus."

James spoke after I turned the phone off. "Who was that?"

"My little brother," I said, stuffing the phone back into my pocket. "He's not happy that nobody told him I was working tonight. He always stays up and monitors my headset with Miles when I'm out working."

James nodded, and leaned against the side of my car. I didn't give him time to start trying to talk to me. Instead, I sat on the hood and started tearing off part of my pants leg. Because of how much pain I was in, tearing the black denim was easy. I took off my jacket and began trying to wrap the wound with one hand, which proved to be a bitch.

"Do you need help?" James asked, moving to sit beside me. I shook my head, taking the material between my teeth and trying to pull. But before I could, James grabbed a hold of it. "You're going to break your teeth all to hell if you do it like that. Just let me tie it."

"No, I'm fine."

"You're trying to tie a knot using your apparently not-dominant hand and your teeth. You need help."

I kept insisting that I didn't, that I was fine. But he wouldn't hear it. He just grabbed the material and maneuvered it into a knot against my arm. He pulled it tight enough to stop the bleeding, but always asked me if it was too tight. Actually— and I'd never admit this out loud to anyone— it was nice having him help me. Every once in a while his hand would brush against my arm and a current of electricity would shoot up it. He had nice hands. I like guys with nice hands.

But once he'd gotten my wound all wrapped up and the silence started setting in, he insisted on trying to make conversation while we waited. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to be there with him. I didn't want to have anything to _do_ with him. If I couldn't get what I wanted, neither could he. But damn me if I didn't talk to him anyway. Oh well, it wasn't anything too important. Small talk mostly.

Finally, when Aaliyah arrived with Geoffrey to pick up my car, I felt an overwhelming sense of joy. I was going home, and wouldn't be taking that ride with James.

"Get into another fight where you're out numbered, did you?" Aaliyah asked after we'd both gotten into the Rolls Royce and were heading to the hospital. I laid my head against the glass of the passenger window and nodded. I expected her to say something else, but she didn't.

With a long drive in the quiet, I finally had time to think about what Fang had said. Was Nikole really not dead? If she wasn't, why didn't she come find me? I've lived in the same house my whole life, and she'd been to it on a number of occasions. She would've come to find me… wouldn't she?

Of course she would. She and I became friends in our senior year in high school, and somehow I had managed to talk her into coming to the academy with me without meaning to. I still don't know how she managed to get accepted. We were nearly inseparable during our first year and a half of schooling— a year and a half that I took much more seriously than she did— until the night we went on our first field mission and everything went to hell.

We'd gone drinking before we were supposed to meet the rest of our team at the coven in White Chapel. Nikole always needed to drink before fighting a vampire, something that should've gotten her kicked out, but she was smart about it and nobody in the academy ever found out.

I tried to list all the occurrences of that night many years before, but blood loss was starting to make everything fuzzy and dim. I remembered meeting our team outside the coven after letting Nikole get a little more tipsy than I should have; getting separated from her not long after we'd gone in together (I explicitly remember everyone in our team going in paired up in two's, Me and Nikole one of the pairs) and finding her locked in a cellar made like a dungeon.

This is where things suddenly became fuzzy. I remember being ambushed while I tried to save her— and I remember escaping without her. Had I left out of cowardice, or had she told me to go? I tried with all my heart to remember, but I just couldn't.

I would ask Victor next time I saw him, surely he would remember. I'd gone to him and told him everything the very night it happened, and weren't old people infamous for remembering things that happened ages ago?

Aaliyah pulled me out of my blood loss induced sleep and I found myself staring at the St. Amaranthus hospital— a hospital built so hunters like me wouldn't have to explain our wounds to regular doctors. Another perk of the Black Glove Society protection plan.

Believe it or not, St. Amaranthus did just as well as a normal hospital, if not better. On top of caring for vampire hunters, they were also equipped to treat werewolf, witch, ghost, and alien hunters. But that list isn't all inclusive. Not to mention the occasional average- Joe who didn't hunt anything.

Aaliyah busied herself filling out paperwork while I tried to neither pass out nor stare at the other invalids here for treatment. The latter proved to be easier said than done, considering one person had the skin on his right arm torn all to hell and another had an eerie green glow about him. These were actually the lucky ones, considering the fact that if you get hurt in most fields of hunting, you were usually killed on the spot.

After bloody arm and green glow went into the back rooms for treatment, it was another ten or fifteen minutes before Aaliyah and I were called back.

My doctor was an older man whose brother— a rounder, somewhat older man— worked at the Black Glove Society HQ as a therapist, but I had only been in to see him once, right after Nikole "died".

"So, in for a bullet wound, are we Ms. Bailey?" Dr. Mohan asked, reviewing the papers that Aaliyah had filled out. "Let's take a look."

He untied my make-shift bandage and, just when I thought he was only looking, a sharp, god-awful pain exploded in my arm, making me scream at the top of my lungs. Aaliyah grabbed my good arm to try and keep me from thrashing around like I was. It wasn't until the pain began to subside that I saw the doctor holding the slug in the palm of his hand, making me feel silly for carrying on like I did.

I left St. Amaranthus with stitches in the arm that Dr. Mohan said would probably scar— oh well, I figured, what's one more?— and a warning to take a few weeks off, just enough to get the stitches out.

But, of course, I didn't listen.

When we got back to the mansion, I tricked Aaliyah and managed to get behind the wheel and out the gate before she could stop me. I'd pay for it later, but if the vampires were holding Nikole hostage, and I could save her, it'd be worth it.

I turned off my headset and stuffed it into the glove compartment. I didn't want to hear Klaus bitching at me for doing something I _knew_ was stupid. But I didn't care if it was stupid or not, this was something I needed to do, and I didn't need an audience during my private personal journey into my past.

The coven was just as I remembered it: a big white-and-gray brick mansion with almost pale violet roofing. The vampire population within would be scarce, considering the sun would be coming up in three or four hours. There was no better time to do this.

I checked my guns to make sure they weren't on their last bullets (they were, I had to put in fresh rounds) before I got out of the car and tried to find a way to climb over the black wrought iron fence. After taking a long time to think about what I needed to do, I hurried across the street and ran at the fence as fast as I could. The momentum was like a springboard that propelled me higher when I got my one good jump off the white cement base.

Too bad my jump wasn't so good that my boot didn't get hooked on one of the spikes sticking out at the top, making me fall face first towards the ground. I managed to save myself my grabbing onto the fence as I went down, but tore open my stitches in the process. I let go of the bar and fell to the ground, writhing in pain. Just because I'd managed to keep the fall itself from hurting, it wasn't any comfort compared to the horrible agony of my stitches having torn apart.

The pain never fully went away, but I somehow found the strength to stand up and hurry around to the side shadowed by tall trees. I could feel the fresh, warm blood trickling down my arm, and I just knew the wound was bigger now than it was before. How could it not have been? I just had my stitches torn apart!

I slipped in through one of the window of an empty room on the first floor, and as I climbed in I inadvertently cut my fingers on the shards of glass still sticking up out of the windowpane. Sneaking in… breaking the glass in… same difference. I cursed under my breath and wiped my hands on my jacket, glad that they weren't as bloody as my arm. It would've been smarter go back home and come back after my arm was fixed up again, but my mind was too set to turn back now.

I only vaguely remembered where I was going. All I knew for sure was that last time I saw her; she was locked up in a cage in a cellar in a courtyard somewhere— which would've been a good place to start, had I any idea which courtyard. The mansion had at least three, and last time I was here I found it on accident.

Without having any idea where I was going, I left the room I broke into and headed north. What else was I supposed to do? I wasn't just going to stand there, and turning back was out of the question.

Everything in the coven seemed to ignite the memories that had become fuzzy with the passing years. The walls were still white with elegant floral gold accents around the top, and the floors were still that vanilla marble that was so clean that it reflected like a mirror. A lot of the artwork was even the same, but then again, why was I surprised? Vampires rarely liked change, as ironic as that might sound.

I found my way to the library purely on accident, already feeling the effects of having torn my stitches what had maybe been only an hour before. I pushed my way through the big wooden doors, having to blink several times to brush away the dark particles away from my vision. Even in almost total darkness— the almost is because of the moonlight shining in through the tall windows and the fire glowing in the hearth on the first floor— I could see how extensive and impressive the library was. I was almost jealous.

But then, a shot was fired from somewhere in the dark. A bullet hit my shoulder before I knew what was happening, and the sudden explosion of pain made me cry out before I could stop myself. When I looked, Fang stepped out of the shadows on the second-floor balcony, holding a gun in his hand.

"What have we here?" he asked. "An intruder?" Trying to ignore the pain, I pointed my guns squarely at him and fired off bullets at him in reply.

He ran with such speed that I didn't even see him move. He was just a white blur moving against the black of the library, like a ghost. I fired, hoping to get in a shot by accident.

I didn't.

He came out of the air in front of me, teeth shining, ready for an easy bite. I put my gun against his heart, but somehow he managed to dodge my attack with just a graceful sweep of his body.

As the fight ran its course, I had to continually move around and around in, what felt like, a complete circle. It was all I could to do try and keep up with him while trying to shoot. A moving target was a lot easier to hit when it didn't have supernatural speed.

He would've been sorry if I wasn't trapped, trying uselessly to win in a fight where I was obviously not going to.

But if I admitted defeat, I would lose more than just the fight.

Suddenly, the world began to spin faster and faster. An unnatural heat rushed over my body as the particles began to collect across my vision again. I closed my eyes to stop the nauseating feeling, to keep myself from making a guarantee to throw up my cookies all over the nice library floor.

I struggled to keep on my feet, but my legs turned to noodles from under me. Without any forewarning, I stumbled over and hit the ground full-force.

Honestly, I couldn't say for sure how long I'd been out. It felt like only a few seconds at most, but when my eyes opened again and I found myself lying on a sofa, I realized it had to have been longer than that. My mouth tasted funny, as if I had just been sucking on a handful of pennies. All at once I felt a rush of panic sweep over me. I smacked my hand down on my neck, feeling for any puncture wounds.

"Don't be so conceited," I turned around, nearly jumping at the sound of another voice, and saw Fang sitting on an old red velvet chair, a book open in his hands. "I told you not too long ago that hunters never quench my thirst."

"Why didn't you kill me?" I asked, nearly shouting it without meaning to.

He didn't look up at me. "Do you always look a gift horse in the mouth?" I didn't answer, and after a minute or two, he went on with a sigh. "I wanted to see how this little adventure of yours played out, and it's a little hard to do when you're dead."

"Does that mean you'll help me?"

He nodded. "It does."

"Why?"

"There you go looking a gift horse in the mouth again. I told you, I want to see how this plays out, and I hate when a story is halted because no one will help the poor protagonist."

I hated the way he made this all sound like a game, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Where is Nikole?"

"I can't say exactly where she is, seeing as she never stays in one place too long. But I can tell you that she's got an apartment here."

"Where is it?"

"You see that door over there?" he lifted a long, almost boney finger towards a pair of double doors on the far side of the library. "Go through those, take the first two lefts you come across, then straight, then the first right after that. The room number is 332."

I stood up to do what he said, surprising myself with the sudden realization that I didn't hurt as much as before. However, it wasn't until I started to climb over the couch that I realized what I was doing.

"How do I know you're not lying to me?"

He shrugged. "You don't. But what do you think the odds are that you'll find it on your own?"

Damn him, he was right.

I might've been playing right into a trap when I hurried through the double doors and followed the directions he'd given me, but at the time I didn't really care. I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.

I was partly surprised to find room 332 right where Fang had said it would be. Vampires sometimes kept apartments in the coven, but not usually. Mostly it was just a meeting place, but there were times when someone was too proud to be a squatter in some unrented apartment in the city.

Apartment 332 was relatively small on the inside, but how much room did a vampire_ really_ need? It had two rooms, a bathroom and a main room. The main room had a long vanilla colored corner couch in front of a plasma screen TV, and the bed had heavy—albeit comfortable—looking gray sheets and white pillows. I'll admit; part of me was expecting a coffin to be lying around somewhere.

I didn't have long. Whatever vampire lived here, they were due back soon, and I needed to find proof that Nikole was alive. I didn't know what I expected to find exactly, but I knew it had to be something. Otherwise, Fang wouldn't have led me to this room, and yes, it _did _occur to me that he'd lied to get me ensnared in a trap.

When I didn't find anything helpful, I began to get apprehensive. What if I didn't find anything? What if this was a total waste of time? Worst of all, what if this was a trap that I walked right into like a dummy? What if—

I pulled out a blue beaded ankle bracelet from the jewelry box next to the bed, and my heart stopped dead in my chest.

The bracelet was made out of teeny tiny light-blue beads with a butterfly dangling next to where the two ends were tied. The bracelet also had a hanging letter on the side, which simply read:

N

I recognized this bracelet. I made it for her eighteenth birthday, a whole year before she "died".

Quickly, I stuffed the bracelet into the pocket of my jacket and hurried out the door. I'd have time to look at it later, now I really needed to get back so no one had a heart-attack or anything. I hoped no one would be angry at me for taking such a huge risk, but I knew that was a bit much to hope for, no matter how hopeful I was feeling tonight.

"Stop right there vamp—" I heard someone say from behind me. I whipped around and held my guns out towards the voice in the shadows. I didn't even notice how fast I moved until I had already done it, and felt particularly proud afterwards. "Alice?"

"James?" and I was right. James stepped out of the shadows with his guns still on me until he saw my face. When he saw me, he put them back in their holsters. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," He almost growled like a dog. "What the hell are you doing here Alice? I thought you were hurt." I smiled sheepishly.

"I got better," I said matter-of-factly. "So what are you doing here?"

I could've sworn he paused for a second, but I could've been wrong. "I came to find _you_," he said, "what were you thinking Alice? You could have gotten hurt, or killed!" I wasn't going to tell him that I'd actually fainted during a fight with a vampire, but, for some reason, wasn't bit. That just seemed like it wasn't something you say to people.

"But I didn't," I challenged, taking my arm back, "I'm fine, and I was just leaving."

"Good, come on."

We left the coven together, and even though he was talking to me, it was all going in one ear and out the other. All I could think of was that ankle bracelet, and that overwhelming possibility that Nikole might be okay.

I just prayed to god she was still human.

**

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**

Wooo this was a long one xD I didn't know it was going to be this long, but here we are. Sorry it took so long for me to update, I had stuff I needed to attend to.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five**

Klaus was waiting for me when I got home, and he didn't look happy.

Then again, he wasn't the only one. Aaliyah wasn't happy either because of how I tricked her. Geoffrey wasn't happy because I went out without Klaus looking over my shoulder. Klaus wasn't happy because he got left out of all the fun, and Miles wasn't happy because his date wouldn't let him touch her.

But no matter how unhappy everyone was when I came back, there was some good news. Having been left out of all the action, Klaus spent the night trying to come up with our next move in the case— and he found a pretty good lead.

So, after everyone got done yelling at me for whatever I did to piss them off, Klaus took James and me into his office.

"I did some digging in BGS's research department mainframe," he said as he went to his keyboard and started clicking the keys until they started sounding like popcorn in the microwave. "And I found out that Megan Wright's ex-husband, Michael, went to prison several years ago because he had been funneling money to an off-shore account for his vampire bosses." He sounded proud of himself as he told us all of this. "In court, he confessed to everything. The account, his vampires being bosses— everything."

"That must've pissed them off." I said.

"Enough to kill his wife for revenge?" James asked. Klaus nodded.

"Maybe. I'm not saying they're suspects, but I'm also not saying they didn't have a motive. I'm just saying it seems like as good of a place to start as any. Their names are Mason Thomas and Lewis Sofer, here's the address of their company. " He said, pointing to the address on the screen.

"Well okay then! Let's go." I said, turning to walk out. But just before I could leave, James grabbed my wrist and pulled me back in.

"Oh no you don't. You've done enough painting the town red for one evening. We'll go tomorrow night, they'll still be there."

I stared down at James' hand and frowned. _Nobody_ told me what to do, especially not some snot-nosed punk who thinks he's hot shit over in the states. He was in _my_ town— on _my _turf— and momma don't take that shit.

I jerked my arm away from James. I wanted to say something witty, but everything that came into my mind didn't sound adequate enough. So instead of standing there like an idiot, I went back out to my car. The garage seemed cold, even after I turned the light on. I didn't really want to go out again. I was tired, and wanted more than anything to take a shower and wash away the bloodstains of the evening. But I couldn't admit that to James or anyone else. I was Alice Bailey, and Alice Bailey doesn't get tired when there is a vampire to find.

Sliding into the driver's seat of my car, I loathed turning the key. So much so that I actually just sat there with my hands on the wheel, trying to will myself to do it. But then, when I brought my arms down, I saw something glittering in the cup holder out of the corner of my eye. When I looked, I saw the rust colored coin Emily Wright had given me what seemed an eternity ago. I picked it up and looked at it.

The blood had already crusted across the face, tracing around the engraving of the bloomed lotus blossom. I wondered what it was for, and why Fang had one. But most of all, I wondered why my mother had one.

I got out of the car and hurried back into the house. I walked right past James without acknowledging him, and when I got into my room, I locked the door so he couldn't follow.

I had my mother's keepsake box hidden in one of the drawers in my closet, buried deep under old socks, lost headbands, antique shirts, and bathing suits I didn't even remember having.

My fingers were shaking as I lifted the box out of the drawer and carried it into my room. It was a perfectly square box with a 4 x 6 picture of our family inside. Engraved elegantly around the picture were the words: "_It doesn't matter where you go, what you do or how much you have, it's who you have beside you that matter most._" And under the picture were the words: "_Arthur, Tabitha, Klaus, and Alice Bailey._"

It felt like my throat had closed up when I saw my parents in the picture. My eyes began to burn, but I knew I wouldn't cry. I hadn't cried for a very long time. But it hurt to see my father again, looking so strong and warm… and my mother, so sweet and radiant. It was almost as if I was looking in through a glass window on happier times.

Slowly, I lifted the lid and was surprised at what I found inside. My mother had stored away the things that meant the most to her, which included the usual things: a picture I had drawn for her in kindergarten, Klaus's sonogram, a necklace my father had given her during their quick courtship, and a picture of her and her sister in gaudy yellow dresses that made them look like little tea cakes. But the thing that stood out among all of these precious memories was one single rust colored coin with a lotus design etched into it. I lifted it out of the box and compared the two.

Why did mother have this? What could possibly connect her to whatever this coin was for? So many questions ran through my mind as I sat on my bed, comparing the twin coins, until I felt my head begin to ache. I wasn't going to find anything useful, and I began to see that after a while. I put my coin in the box along with my mother's, and put it back in the closet where I got it from.

As I stripped down in my bathroom to take a shower, I caught a glimpse of the deep, jagged scars that ran all down my back. Unavoidable occupational hazards, it's hard to be a vampire hunter without getting a scar or two. They used to make me feel ugly, and to some extent they still did, but I was more accustomed to them. Now they were just a part of me.

I was surprised, though, when I looked at the arm that had gotten shot and there was nothing left but the little red line of a minor scratch. I couldn't decide what was worse: having yet another scar, or having vampire blood pumping through my veins for a whole month. After staring at the once vicious bullet wound for a moment, I decided it didn't matter anyway. The blood was there, and until the month was up, I was impervious to being turned and my senses were heightened. Besides, no one needed to know but me and Fang.

The warm water raining down from the showerhead was euphoric. The blood and dirt slid off my body with the steady streams of water, and ran down the drain. It felt like I hadn't had a shower in ages, when I had showered just that morning. It had been a long day, and when I climbed out of the shower; dressed in my PJs; and crawled into bed, I fell into a comfortable cloud of deep sleep.

v—v

^—^

That next night— after Klaus gave us the news that he had arranged for us to meet with Thomas and Sofer under my pseudonym— James and I went to Thomas and Sofer's company in downtown London. The building reached out from the ground and looked as if it was built out of millions of mirrors. The inside was just as glamorous as the outside, and the only thing that didn't simply scream elegance was the pasty little man standing behind the front desk, typing away on his laptop.

I gave James my best let-me-handle-this expression, but he shook his head to it. I gave him a quizzical look, and he leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"You're not exactly the sweet-and-social type. Let me handle this, and if things start to get out of hand, I'll let you bully him, okay?"

My skin erupted in goose-bumps when I felt his warm breath against my ear, and having him anywhere near that close to me made my heart hammer painfully against my chest. I hadn't even realized it until I had nodded and we were walking up to the front desk that my fingers were shaking.

"Excuse me," He said to the little man behind the counter, who looked at us distrustfully. "We're here to see Mr. Thomas and Mr. Sofer; I believe we have an appointment. Alex Braxton?"

I wasn't sure if the little man would believe James, and I became less sure even after he began typing away on his laptop. He had no reason not to, but for some reason I just didn't think he would. This was why I was so surprised when he gave us the okay to go on up to their office. James smiled smugly at me as we walked towards the elevator, and wasn't fazed one bit when I gave him the meanest look I could come up with.

Their office was on the top floor, but it may as well have been on the other side of the world. Being stuck in the elevator with James was pure torture. I couldn't keep from stealing glances at him through the reflective metal door, and each time I found myself admiring something new about him. I liked the way his hair swept across his forehead and fell in the way of his big brown eyes, and how he was thin and masculine at the same time— the right kind of body type for a man. Strong enough to hold his own, but thin enough to wrap your arms around…

I glanced up at the numbers above the door. Could we be moving any slower? The longer I spent in that damned elevator with him, the more my throat felt like it was closing up and my whole insides were collapsing. James was making me claustrophobic, and I needed to get out.

When the doors opened, it couldn't have been much different than recovering from a surprise— and forceful— dunk in a pool. It felt like I wanted to gasp for air, but I didn't. I remained calm, cool, and collected as he and I walked down the hall to Mr. Thomas and Mr. Sofer's office.

I knocked on the door. Moments passed, and when I thought about knocking again, the door was opened.

The man who opened the door looked almost like a badly aged fifty-year-old with a horribly colorless complexion. The man was undeniably a vampire.

"You must be Alex Braxton," said the vampire. I watched his eyes dart between us, as if he was trying to figure out which of us was Alex Braxton.

"Yes, I am." I said, making his eyes land, and stay, on me.

"We've been expecting you," He said, opening the door wide enough for us to walk in. We did, and saw another man sitting behind the desk. He looked roughly the same age as the vampire who had opened the door, except his hair was considerably whiter. "I'm Mr. Sofer and that's my associate, Mr. Thomas."

"Pleased to meet you both," James said politely. He was the only one who could say it. I was standing so rigidly beside him that any politeness on my part would've been impossible. I was far too busy trying not to pull out my guns and shoot until the walls were painted with vampire blood.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?" Thomas asked, standing up and walking gracefully over to Sofer. "It's not every night we get a visit from the White Bandit herself. It better not be anyway."

"Have anything you'd like to say about Megan Wright's death?" I snapped instantly. I had hoped to gracefully move up to the subject, but what the hell? I didn't like to beat around the bush anyway.

"Just that it's a sad thing. She was such a pretty woman."

He didn't sound too regretful of her death, but that didn't surprise me too much.

"We would also like to be of service to you in finding whoever did this."

"And _why _is _that_?" I asked.

"Aside from not wanting to be suspects, it's every vampire's duty to make sure no one shines that much light on our kind." Sofer said. "Otherwise, we would quickly be wiped out. Superstition is our best weapon, and it's that kind of thing that permits us to hide from mortals. Whatever vampire did this, if a vampire _did_ do this, it needs to be taken out."

I hated the idea of helping a vampire. I hated the idea of doing anything except placing my guns against their foreheads and making soup out of their brains. But Sofer made some very valid points, and if worst came to worst I could always come back to their company and kill them. So basically it was a win-win.

"What've you got?"

"Have you ever heard of a goblin named Balor?" Sofer asked, James and I shook our heads. "Do you even know what goblins are?"

"Of course we do." I lied, but I assumed Klaus could find something on them and tell me anyway. No reason to look stupid in front of the enemy.

"Of course, why would I think otherwise? Balor lives in the sewers underneath Hyde Park. You can find a direct route to his home through a drainage pipe."

I didn't know whether or not I wanted to believe him. For all I knew, he could be leading me into a trap. But no matter how heavily the possibility weighed on my mind, it didn't stop James and I from heading to Hyde Park from their office in search of the goblin.

As we made the drive from their office to the park, Klaus told me that he found something on goblins, just as I'd hoped he would. Apparently, according to BGS; if you want to know or find something, you go to a Goblin. I was hoping for something more, but beggars couldn't be choosers and what Klaus found was good enough for me. It was also around this time that I suddenly realized that the file didn't say what Megan Wright did for a living before she died— if she did anything at all.

James and I met up again at the park, where I told him what Klaus had found out as the two of us searched for the drainage pipe that Sofer had told us about. Just when I was starting to think that maybe we'd been tricked, we found a large circular pipe sticking out of an avalanche of white rocks far, far away from where all the fun of the park would've taken place, had it been daylight.

I hated the idea of crawling on my stomach through a pipe that led into the sewer, but I had no choice. So, with much distaste building up inside of me, I laid my stomach down against the pipe and began to crawl, James following behind me.

A lot of things made the journey unpleasant. Not only did having James crawling behind me— with a great view of my hindquarters— make me nervous, but the further we crawled into the pipe, the worse the smell got. By the time we were able to come out, I was doing everything I could to remember to breathe through my mouth.

We were standing in a living room sized area with a cot in the far corner across from a small, old looking computer, a fridge in the far corner, and a TV in front of a torn-up couch. Everything standing in ankle-deep sewer water. In the center of the room stood who I guessed was Balor.

He was an ugly little creature with fangs too big for his mouth, black spikes all down his back, and dark gray skin that looked made of tree bark. His jet-black claws were bigger than his hands, looking sharp enough to cut through a buzz saw.

When he saw us, he didn't growl, or shout, or anything. All he did was smile at us with those enormous yellow teeth.

"Are you Balor?" I asked. He nodded.

"The one and only. But you don't need to introduce yourself, I know who you are."

"Oh do you?"

"You don't get a reputation like yours and expect not to have every monster in the city not know you, White Bandit," I resisted the urge to proudly grin, I was glad that my title had become so famous.

"Do you know about the Wright murder?" I asked.

"Of course I do. News travels like wildfire, especially when a vampire might be involved. But that's what you're doing here, isn't it? You're the little huntress the Black Glove Society hired to sniff out the culprit."

It was unbelievably unnerving that Balor knew all of that on his own. But I didn't show it. "Can you tell me what Megan Wright's job was before she died?"

"Only that? I can manage that. But you see, we've got a problem. Knowledge comes at a price, and I need to know how much you're willing to spend."

I sighed. "How much do you want?"

Balor laughed, deep and throaty. "Goblins don't have much use for money. We're not usually welcome in shopping malls, if you can believe it."

I was getting sick of this. I didn't have all night to try and negotiate a trade with a goblin, so I did the only thing I thought might just work. "Okay. How about I promise not to tell the Black Glove Society that there's a Goblin living under the park? I'm sure they'd love to get their hands on a Goblin to dissect."

Though I could hardly see much expression in those big, ugly eyes of his— I could've sworn I saw a look of disgust wash over his face. "Ugh, sounds fair enough. But next time you pay for your information like everyone else. Megan Wright used to work as a prostitute on Comberwell Church Street. If you're looking for your next move, I suggest you start there."

"A prostitute?" I asked, not entirely believing it at first.

"Yeah, you know the kind of women who stand on street corners and get paid to pull up their skirts? One of those." He laughed, "You've been skulking around the underworld hunting vampires, but you've never heard of a prostitute?" I gave him an angry look.

"I just didn't expect it,"

"Why? Because she has a kid? Wake up and smell the urine sweetheart, even prostitutes have kids. Some call them trick babies."

"That's not why!" Even though it was, I didn't want to admit it. It made me sound like a bad person.

"Well, you better get to Camberwell before all the brides of darkness turn in for the day." I nodded.

"Thank you, Balor," I said as I turned to leave. Even though I hated saying thank you to any of the monsters in the city, he was one of the few that didn't try to screw me over or exploit me. He, of all of them, deserved it. James waited beside the drainage pipe for me.

"Just don't forget what I said," He said, "Next time you need something you're gonna have to pay for it like everybody else."

"Fair enough," and it really was. I hadn't entirely expected the one freebee that I got, and I wasn't greedy. But I _was _grateful for it.

I could feel him watching us from behind as we crawled into the drainage pipe to leave. I half-expected him to attack us while we were in the small space, practically helpless, but he didn't.

Our next stop: Camberwell Church Street.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six**

The buildings with neon lights glowed so brightly that they painted the cement sidewalk a brilliant crayola twilight. James and I parked our cars on the side of the road to avoid the other cars as they drove by in a continuous parade of dazzling white headlights. We made our way through the crowd of night owls until we found a group of scantily clad women standing together in a group. Some were leaning against the walls of the Cube nightclub while others were standing on the side of the street, talking to cars as they passed on. Some got in, some didn't.

As we got closer, James and I were approached by a short girl— probably no older than twenty or twenty-two— who had her bright red hair tied up in a side-ponytail.

The girl smiled when she had our attention. "Are either of you two looking for a date tonight?" She asked. Her words were almost purring.

"No," I said. "But we're looking for information. Have you ever heard of a woman named Megan Wright? Our sources say she used to work here—"

"I know Meg." The girl interrupted, almost violently. "She and I used to be good friends before… well… I'm guessing you know, since you said 'used to work here'."

"Is there anything you can tell us about her time here?" I asked. I tried to make myself sound gentler, since I could almost hear the torture in her voice. "Maybe she made a customer angry? Or maybe—"

"Listen, whoever you are. Sometimes, people who talk about what they know realize that prudently staying quiet is usually the wise thing to do. So stop asking me, I won't tell you a thing."

I liked the way this girl thought. It was that kind of thinking that would save her life someday, but it wasn't helping me in my endeavors. There was only one way I could think of to make her talk. I dug into the pocket of my jeans and handed her a hundred dollars. I know it might not sound like a lot, but when you're selling your body for money and the world is as it is— a hundred dollars would buy me the information I needed.

When I handed her the money, the moral tape that had held her lips shut was suddenly torn off.

She grabbed the money hungrily out of my hands and stuck it into her bra. "I don't know why you two are bothering me. You ought to be bothering Cohan."

"Cohan?"

"He and his gang make a tidy living out of _protecting_ us whores, and believe me I use the term 'protected' very loosely."

"Do you think this _Cohan_ had anything to do with Megan's death?"

"I'm not saying he did, and I'm not saying he didn't. All I'm saying is that he was royally pissed off when we couldn't make our payments for the third time in a row and said he'd cut us if we didn't make the weekly plus interest. We pay him three-hundred dollars a night to keep us safe from creeps and sickos, and that's not always an easy payment to make. Especially when, after you're done for the night and you go home, you look your baby girl in the face and pray to god she doesn't have to do what you do to survive. It makes each night after that harder, because you keep imagining that it's her who is doing what you do. "

"You have a child?

"Just turned ten years old. Her daddy and I got divorced some years ago, and she lives with me because he doesn't want her."

I could hear venom in her voice, resonating with a deep, burning hatred.

For whatever reason, I felt it necessary to ask her name.

"Polly Nichols,"

"Okay Polly, can you tell me where I might find Mr. Cohan?"

She shook her head. "No, sorry. But if you find him, I'd be careful if I were you. He enjoys hurting women."

"I'll keep that in mind, Ms. Nichols." At the time, though, I wasn't sure I would. A lot of the men I go up against every night have no qualms about hurting women.

Just as we turned to leave, Polly grabbed my arm. "There's one thing I… I didn't want to say, but I think you should probably know about."

"What?"

"Cohan… he's a vampire. I know how that sounds, but believe me! Sometimes… sometimes I catch him drinking some girls' blood when he thinks nobody is looking."

It took every ounce of self-control I had not to go 'oh_ really_?' when I heard Cohan was a vampire. All I did was nod and say "I'll keep that in mind" again. But unlike the bit about him liking to hurt women, I was sure I really would keep_ that_ in mind.

We left Polly standing on the corner and went back to our cars. On the way, I asked Klaus if he could find Cohan with just his last name.

"It might take a while, but I probably can."

"Thanks Klaus."

With nothing left for us to do, we decided that the best course of action would to be to go back to my house and regroup. What all could we do? All we knew for sure was that Cohan was a vampire who liked to bully girls, and that didn't narrow anything down.

Honestly, I expected to have a quiet drive home. But of course, that's not what happened.

As I rounded a corner onto King's Road, I found my dearest friend Miles beating the ever-loving shit out of a parking meter with a steel baseball bat.

I parked the car on the side of the street before jumping out and yelling at him.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"What's it look like? I'm beating the snot out of this parking meter." He sounded so blunt, talking as if I were stupid for asking.

"_Why_?"

"Cause I can, that's why."

"…_What_?" he rolled his eyes.

"It's a hobby," he said frankly, "You know. Some people knit, some people garden…I beat the hell out of parking meters." I didn't know how to respond to that. He was just doing it as a hobby. "Don't you understand Alicie? This is my thing! My hobby! You were always saying I needed something else to do with my free time since my 'bubbles in the pool' experiment went wrong. Well, here's my new thing!"

"Do you _have_ to destroy things to be entertained?"

"Yes." blunt, direct, and straight to the point. I shook my head; I was more than embarrassed to know him right then. I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the car, where I pushed him into the passenger seat.

"I think you're overreacting just a little bit, it's not like I was hurting anyone."

"You were beating a parking meter for a hobby!"

"Still, not one person got hurt." He looked at his hands for a minute or two in silence. "When did I cut my finger?"

"So no one got hurt huh?"

"Oh shut up." He lightly knocked me on the head with the palm of his hand.

When I got him home, I dragged him inside by his wrist. Aaliyah, Klaus, and Geoffrey were all in the living room waiting for me. At first, I wondered how they knew we were coming home, but then I remembered the headset had a camera in it, so Klaus saw the whole thing.

"You're a dumbass," Aaliyah was the first to speak up when we got home. "What the hell kind of hobby is that?"

"Jesus, it's not like I was out killing people." Miles defended, jerking his wrist out of my grip. "Personally I think my hobbies are my business!"

"You couldn't pick a hobby that wasn't a federal offence?"

"Is destroying a parking meter really a federal offence?" He asked, "It's not just tampering with mail?"

"Miles, you've done that too." I piped up; reminding him of that time Aaliyah got a letter from her father, the doctor, and he opened it before she did.

"Hey, to be fair, I thought it was a letter telling her results of a pregnancy test or an AIDS thing." He got slapped in the face for that comment. I didn't blame Aaliyah; he deserved to be smacked for that. "Bloody Hell!"

"Shut up asshole," Aaliyah snapped with hate painted in her expression. "You're the one who would most likely need an AIDS test in this house."

"Like you're going to admit it."

"Okay, let's get back to the subject." Klaus said, probably trying to intervene before Aaliyah decided to kick his ass. I'd put my money on her, mostly because Miles would never hit a girl. No matter how much of a dumbass screw-up he was, he would never, ever, hit a girl. Well, that, and he had the coordination of a dead guinea pig.

"Did you try knitting?" I asked. Thinking about it, I couldn't imagine him with a pair of knitting needles making a sweater.

"Yes I did, and it pissed me off." I was surprised to hear that he _had_ tried it after all. But not so surprised that it pissed him off. "Everything kept getting into knots and tangles until I just said screw it and threw the whole thing into the fire."

"Gardening?" Geoffrey suggested.

"No, no, remember the pesticide incident?" Aaliyah asked. I actually had forgotten about the pesticide incident. Miles had tried to garden once with me, and one little attempt to use pesticide practically wiped out half the east side of the garden. Gardening really was out of the question.

"Cooking?" I offered up. Everyone, even Miles, looked at me with that expression that seemed to say 'oh come _on_.' without ever saying a word. "Right…"

"How about writing?" Klaus suggested. Miles rolled his eyes.

"To write, I'd have to remember shit. I really _hate_ remembering shit." He did have a point. "So let me have my petty vandalism."

"It _is_ the only way he won't destroy the house…" I said to myself after the seed of silence had taken root. My attempt was to get the idea of him destroying public things to grow on me. I didn't really have a lot of options at that point, it was either let him entertain himself through vandalism or let him destroy the house. I was dealt a bad hand, but I decided to play to my strengths. "Fine, just don't do anything to the house."

"Of course," He said, "I'm a vandalizer, not a jackass." I found several things wrong with what he said, but I didn't bring it up.

So we left it at that. Aaliyah went back upstairs to bed, Klaus went back to his office to find something on Cohan, and Geoffrey went to finish the wash. Miles went up to his room to— well, I don't like thinking about what Miles does in his room so for all intensive purposes, let's just say he went to bed and leave it at that.

"You have astoundingly interesting friends." James said as we sat down on the couch.

"Yeah, I guess. To be fair though, it's mostly Miles. If he wasn't one of my best friends, I think life would be pretty dull." I said. "So anyway, what do we know so far?"

"Jack shit."

"Come on, we've _got_ to know _something_. Personally, I think this Cohan guy did it. I mean, you remember what Polly said, don't you? About how he's a vampire and likes to hurt women?"

"But that doesn't really mean he did it. I mean, how many vampires have you met in your career that hurt women?"

"Actually, not that many. Vampires usually don't kill their prey. When they finish drinking from someone, they're usually left in a kind of stupefied daze, and soon they wake up and it's like nothing ever happened. Shouldn't you know that? I mean, that's vampire 101 at the academy."

I could've sworn he hesitated. "Must've slipped my mind. Can I ask you something?"

"...sure?"

"How did you get mixed up in this whole business? I mean, you're family has to be crazy rich for you to afford this place. Why not live your life in luxury or get into the family business?"

The last thing I wanted to do was tell him the truth. I wasn't even the one who told Aaliyah and Miles the truth, it was Klaus!

"Because I felt like it." Seemed like a suitable answer, but he wouldn't take it.

"A vampire killed my little sister," he said suddenly. "I was fifteen, maybe sixteen years old. I joined the academy two years later. That's when I learned that, unfortunately, my problem was surprisingly common. " At first I didn't understand why he would just blurt out something like that, but then it hit me. He was telling me why he became a vampire hunter in hopes of getting me to tell him why I did, and damn him, it was working.

I found myself asking "How old was your sister?" without looking him in the eye.

He gave me the kind of smile you give to a baby cat when you're finally able to coax it out of its hiding place. I knew he wasn't smiling because of his sister, but instead because he was getting a reaction out of me. "Seven."

"Poor kid."

Of all the things I had to be scared of in my life, would you believe that the thing that did it for me was the little quiver inside that made me almost want to tell him everything? The thing that did it in for me, though, was when my partner with the soft looking baby face and those big goddamn brown eyes put his hand on mine.

He didn't grab for it, but didn't touch it so lightly that it was like running a feather over the back of my hand. I hadn't really had much time to notice it before, and maybe I wouldn't have if he hadn't grabbed my hand, but James Larson had perfect hands.

I wanted to jerk my hand away from him like I would had it been anyone else. I hated physical contact. I had been without it for so long that having it suddenly thrust at me was almost painful. But a warm, caressing voice inside my head had taken over. _It's okay Alice…_ It said. _You can trust him…_

Gradually, I began to give in.

With my head lying on the back of the couch, and James holding my hand, I told him the story I had been keeping inside since I was thirteen. I told him how I saw some vampire thugs kill my mom and dad, how Klaus and I had been raised by Geoffrey since then, and how I became a vampire hunter because I wanted to avenge them. At the end, I even added that it didn't feel like I had any other choice.

And during the whole painful story— I didn't cry once.

"My god, Alice…" I could hear it in his voice. The very thing I hated hearing when directed at me. Pity.

"Don't James," I started. "I'm fine."

"I'm still sorry," He said. I felt my insides flinch when he began to rub his thumb in circles around my knuckles. I couldn't tell if he was doing it on purpose or subconsciously, but it didn't really matter. I was attuned to it as hell.

A moment of heavy silence passed slowly between us. I could feel my heart beating in my throat, and hoped that I wasn't blushing. If I had been, he definitely would've seen me. I don't think I was because he didn't say anything. I tried not to look up at him because I knew, somewhere deep down, that if I made contact with those big brown eyes of his, I would drown.

But when the moment came, I couldn't stop myself. I let my eyes wander along the curve of his baby face all the way up to his haunting brown eyes. Just as I'd feared, the moment I looked into them it felt like I was swept out to sea.

It was as if I was an outsider looking in, unable to do much outside of watching as someone else inside my skin made me move closer to him very, very gradually. Ignoring all rational thought. James was my partner, nothing more. I tried to get that through my own thick skull, but it didn't seem to matter. For whatever reason, I allowed myself to move closer…and closer… until I could feel his warm, inviting breath on my lips—

"Hey Alice? Do you know what happened to my lucky shorts?"

James and I threw ourselves apart at the sudden sound of Miles's voice from the direction of the stairs. He hadn't seen anything, of that I was more than certain. But it didn't keep my heart from pounding painfully against my chest or my nerves from jumping around like gnats on speed.

"I think Geoffrey put them in the wash!" I shouted back at him, maybe just a little too loudly. I waited, very still, until I was sure Miles was gone. Then I stood up from my spot on the sofa. "I'm tired. I'll make sure to call you when Klaus gets us what we asked him to."

I didn't give him time to say or do anything in response. I hurried ungracefully up to my room and made sure to lock the door. My heart was still beating in my chest like a drum when I threw myself down on the bed and buried my face in my pillow.

What in the _hell _was I thinking? I barely knew him! He was just some guy from the states that Shadow and Illusion sent over to help me— and that's _all_! _Now _what was I supposed to do? He and I still had to work together, and I had to go and do something this stupid!

I laid on my bed, scolding myself for the longest time. But no matter how bad I tried to make myself think it was, the back of my mind kept remembering how wonderful it felt to feel something besides hate and anger. I might have messed up a partnership that might not go anywhere for a while, but damn it if the selfish part of me didn't want to scream like a sixteen year old at how I almost kissed a cute guy. I hated all of this, but at the same time I didn't want it to go away.

When I woke up, it was daylight.

I couldn't even remember falling asleep. It did explain why, when I woke up, I felt better. I went into the bathroom, took a shower, and then changed into my PJs to lounge around in until it was time to work. I took my dirty clothes down to the laundry room and threw them in by themselves. I hated making Geoffrey do my laundry, so if I ever took my clothes off after he did the laundry, I would throw them in myself. This, believe it or not, happened frequently.

The kitchen was empty, except for Aaliyah who was busy making herself a sandwich.

"Good afternoon sleepy head." She chirped. Aaliyah had always been a morning person, which wasn't too hard to believe, since she was practically the only one in the house who was awake during the day.

"What time is it?" I asked sleepily as I sat on one of the barstools.

"Almost two o' clock." She said. "Oh! Before I forget, James called this morning. He asked you to call him back."

Even though hearing that James called made my heart begin to race, I took solace knowing that Aaliyah had no clue what happened last night. I loved Aaliyah like a sister, but I knew that she would never let me live that sort of thing down.

I nodded. "Okay, I'll get right on that." I only partly meant it. I _would _call him back… I just might take my sweet time doing it.

"So how'd it go last night? Figure anything out?"

_You could say that…_ I thought to myself. I shook my head. "Nope."

Aaliyah and I continued to make small talk while we were in the kitchen, and at some point I had gotten up and made myself a PB&J sandwich. All the while, my mind was reeling with so many different thoughts that I wasn't paying one lick of attention to anything we were talking about. I wondered how much longer it would take Klaus to come up with something on Cohan, because I hated sitting around when there was work that needed to be done. I wondered what James wanted to talk about; although a small part of me had a feeling it had something to do with the night before. I wondered how many more people would have to die before James and I finally closed in on the killer… so many thoughts came rushing at me, bashing each other around in my head for my attention.

It started giving me a headache.

After Aaliyah finished her lunch, she told me she was going to go get a book from the library and do a little reading in the garden. With only a quarter of my sandwich eaten, I took it with me back up to my room, where I decided to grow a metaphorical pair and call James.

Each time the phone rang in my ear, I contemplated hanging up. But I didn't, and soon he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey James, its Alice. Aaliyah said you called earlier…?"

"Oh, yeah, I did." I tried to decide what sort of thing— good or bad— he had to tell me by the tone of his voice, but I couldn't. "There's…um, been something I wanted to ask, but theres never really been a moment when I could. I almost did last night, I mean, but I lost my nerve, then when I got it back, we almost… you know… A-Anyway, long story short, I was wondering if maybe you'd want to go with me to dinner… Saturday night maybe? If we don't have work, I mean."

It was as if I had soaked my finger in water and jammed it into an electrical outlet. It'd been about five or six years since I'd been asked out on a date, and I had kind of forgotten how to respond. I wanted to say yes, but I couldn't make my mouth form the words. They were all lodged in my throat like a cherry pit. I suddenly realized that there was a time limit on responses, because before I knew it, James was trying to cover his ass by saying that if I didn't want to go, it was fine.

"Sorry, the phone slipped." The phone hadn't moved an inch. With a sudden burst of courage, I forced out the words that had been stuck in my throat. "Sure, I'd love to go to dinner with you Saturday."

"Great! So Saturday it is, I'll... um, pick you up around seven? Is seven good for you?" Even though I couldn't see him first-hand, just by the sound of his voice I imagined a big smile on his face that made me smile. When I realized it though, I purposefully turned it into a frown.

"Seven is good."

"Great! Well… I guess I'll see you then."

"You'll see me before seven. We're still trying to figure out who killed Megan Wright, remember?"

"Oh yeah," he said sheepishly. "Well then, I guess I'll see you…" his voiced trailed, as if he was trying to figure out how to say he'd see me when we had something to do.

"When I see you." I finished for him.

"Right. I-I'll see you when I see you." And, after saying goodbye, we both hung up.

For my whole life, I've had to swallow my own fear to survive. I've lived through gunfights, attacks under the cover of darkness, and duels with the undead. Yet, the thing that scariest moment of my life was when I came to realize that James and I had a date for that Saturday night at seven. When it hit me, I fell back onto my bed.

I was so god damned worried about having almost kissed him before, but I hadn't truly been staring fear into the eye. But on Saturday at seven I would be _alone _with him, on a _date_. What would save me then, at the last second, before I did something— something— something that I _wanted_ to do? Something that I thought might make me happy? Who would save me from giving in to the person inside who wanted more than anything to have someone kiss her and make her feel like everything in the world suddenly stopped being so dark and cloudy?

Klaus woke me up at eight o' clock that night. Yet again, I had fallen asleep without realizing it. Why did I keep doing that today?

"Good, you're up." Klaus said as I pulled myself up off the mattress. "I got what you asked for. I managed to search through BGS's vampire database for a Mr. Cohan and compiled a cute little profile for you. Not only that, but I used that information to send a bug that helped me hack into his system and get for you the files he saved from the security cameras."

"My my, you've been quite the busy bee, haven't you?"

"Much busier than you have been. Aaliyah told me you got up at two this afternoon and went right on back to sleep."

"Oh hush up nerd boy." I said. I ruffled his hair as he and I walked downstairs to his office to take a look at all the work he'd done for me.

He had Cohan's file all printed out and saved into a neat little folder for me to look at, and that's exactly what I did while Klaus got ready to show me what he found in the way of security camera archives.

David Cohan. 89 years undead, but looks mid to late thirties. Had three illegitimate children, all moved to the states in their 20's. Now he works out of an apartment building he bought when he was 30 years cold, selling protection to the whores on Camberwell Church Street— and for the record, I don't mean_ that_ kind of protection.

"Impressive," I said, flipping through the pages of misdemeanors Mr. Cohan had committed during his undead life. Petty crimes, really. Thievery, vandalism—some counts of dealing drugs, but he somehow got off with a slap on the wrist. "This guy could give Miles a run for his money."

"I would more than definitely pay to see that." Klaus said, laughing. "Okay, here we go. I played around with the video options, and I got it as clear as I could. Unfortunately, it's no plasma-screen quality— but it's better than nothing, right?"

"Definitely, play 'er up!"

There was a whole list of files organized by the date. We couldn't say which file was what we were looking for, so we started at the file the day before Megan Wright's death and decided to work backwards. We didn't have to look too far back, because in the file labeled for three days before Megan died, we found exactly what we were hoping to.

We found a recording of David Cohan screaming his undead lungs out at Megan Wright and Polly Nichols.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven**

"Bitch!" Shouted Cohan as he smacked Megan across the face. "You think you can steal from me and get away with it?"

Cohan was about a head taller than Megan, with dark hair that looked like it brushed along his shoulders.

"Leave her alone!" Polly interrupted. "She used the money for her kid! Besides, it's _her _money, David. She'll do with it as she pleases."

Megan grabbed Polly's arm, possibly to try and quiet her, but Polly had already dug them both into a hole.

"That's true. It_ is_ her money, and she can do with it _whatever _she wants." Cohan stepped closer to Megan, which made her and Polly both take a step back. "But the funny thing about money is that it's usually wise to make sure your bills are in order. Pay your mortgage, keep your house." He grabbed Megan by the throat and threw her against the wall with superhuman speed. He produced a tiny switchblade from his pocket and pushed it against her throat. Not close enough to kill her, but just close enough for her to feel the cold metal against her skin. "When you don't pay your bodyguard, you get hurt."

"He did it," I said to Klaus as Cohan let Megan fall to the floor in tears while he walked out of the room, pushing Polly down along the way. "I'm sure of it."

"Just because _you _think he did it doesn't mean he did." Klaus said. "_You_ would point at any vampire on the street and say they did it if it means you'll get to kill them. This might just be a coincidence."

"What does it matter if it's a coincidence or not? He's a vampire; it's my job to _hunt _vampires."

"But what if he knows something? We'll never know if you chop off his head like the Queen of Hearts."

I wanted to look as unhappy as I felt, but the Queen of Hearts reference made me smile.

"He wouldn't tell us anyway, even if he _did_ know something. Sometimes you're way too trusting of people."

"Regardless, it's probably not a good idea to go off and kill him without knowing for sure if he's the one we're looking for."

I hated that plan. I hated it a lot. But no matter how much I hated it, I could see what Klaus meant. If David had any information at all, it would probably be a mistake to kill him before I had a chance to learn what it was. Besides, if he didn't tell me what I wanted to hear, I'd take him out right then and there. Off with his head and all that.

"So what do I do right now?" I asked. "Wait until someone else dies and I can pin the killings on him or…?"

"You could go and either talk to him or search the building he works out of for anything interesting."

I didn't like the first choice, and I didn't like the second choice. I liked my idea, the one where I blow his brains out all over the floor. But since that wasn't an option, I decided to go upstairs and sort out my plan of attack. Maybe I would call James back and ask him what he thought would be the best idea. If I couldn't work alone, I may as well make use of my partner.

When I sat down on my bed, I caught sight of Nikole's anklet. I'd almost completely forgotten about it, having come home exhausted since the case began. But then again, it's only been a day or two since I found it, which made everything seem long and drawn-out when I thought about it like that.

I picked it up and held the letter charm in the palm of my hand. Why was Nikole's anklet in a vampire coven? I was willing to entertain the idea that maybe one of the vampires that killed her decided to take it as a trophy, but for some reason it didn't feel right.

With the bracelet still in hand, I picked up the phone and called the only person who I knew would help me figure this out. It rang six times before I got the voicemail.

"Hey Victor, its Alice. I know you're going to hate me, but I went back to the White chapel coven a night or two ago, and I found Nikole's anklet. I'm thinking that maybe a vampire took it as some sort of… I don't know… trophy I guess? But that doesn't seem right for some reason. What if Nikole isn't dead? I mean, maybe she was turned? But why would a vampire turn her if it could have her as a snack instead? I don't know, I'm just thinking out loud. Listen; call me back when you get this. I've got some stuff I need to talk to you about and I'm not sure how long it can wait. So… just… call me back I guess. Give my best to Yvette when you get this. Bye."

I ended the call, put the anklet back on the end table, and called James. I dialed fast, just in case I lost my nerve.

He answered on the third ring.

"Hey Alice, what's up?"

"For once, I'm letting you make the decisions."

"Oh _really_?"

I smiled, glad that James couldn't see me. "Just this once, so don't go and get all cocky on me. Klaus went all techie and was able to get us a file on David Cohan _and _access to his security camera files. Anyway, he says it'd be stupid of me just to go and kill Cohan without any real proof that he did anything—"

"— Which it would be." James Interrupted.

"Shut up," I said. "Anyway, he said it would be a good idea for us to either go and question him, or sneak in and look around for something incriminating. Personally, I'm all for the kill him now, worry about questions later. But since that's not an option, I'm leaving it up to you."

"I feel _so_ honored," he said sarcastically. But not in a mean way. "How about this: I'll interrogate him while you snoop around for anything that might be useful. He probably knows you're a vampire hunter, since you seem to have a lot of… fans in the city, but he doesn't know about me. I can steal a policeman's uniform and pretend I'm with the police."

"But he'll never tell you the truth if he thinks you're a mortal policeman."

"Did you expect him to tell the truth anyway?"

He had a point.

When I didn't say anything for a moment, he went on. "That's how we'll distract him while you're poking around on the inside."

I was speechless. The one time I give James the chance to decide what we do, he comes up with a brilliant plan. I definitely didn't see _that_ coming.

"Sounds like a plan. When and where do you want to meet up?"

"How about now at your house?"

"Works for me. I'll be ready to go by the time you're here."

"Cool. See you soon."

I turned the phone off and went to get changed into my work clothes, finding them folded neatly in my closet. In my head, I made a note to thank Geoffrey for finishing the laundry I had forgotten about.

James arrived at the mansion about two and a half hours later— more than enough time for Klaus, Miles, and I to do a systems check on the headset. Just to make sure he could see me and I could hear him— dressed like a policeman.

"So, how do I look?"

"Very convincing. Where'd you get the outfit?"

"Costume store."

"Got a fake badge incase he asks for it?"

"Right here," he said, reaching into his pocket. He showed me his wallet, with the fake ID slipped in over his driver's license. It had his picture and his name on its face. "How's it look? I had a friend of mine make it for me. Last minute, but got it."

"Looks good, he'll definitely fall for it. Hell,_ I_ almost fell for it! Come on, let's get going. We're burning moonlight."

James and I took our own cars to Camberwell Church Street, and parked a good distance away from the address Klaus had found on the file. He and I went over the plan as we walked towards the apartment building, but as I went my own way towards the back of the building to sneak in, I found myself worrying about him. Stupid bastard better keep himself safe.

I found a way in through an unguarded door in the back. Normally, a door like that probably would've been guarded, and I couldn't account for why it wasn't, but I wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If the vampires were being lazy and shirking their responsibilities, why should I not benefit?

The bottom hallway seemed like the kind of hallway you'd find in a dream. It was tight, made of dark red brick, and stretched on for what seemed like forever. As I stood in the doorway I began to wonder if I would ever reach the end. I've had dreams like that before, and I never made it.

But that's silly, if I were dreaming, there'd be bunnies.

Eventually, I came to a flight of metal stairs that lead up to the lower-level apartments. The hallway it led up to was just as dingy feeling, except that the walls were covered in peeling white wallpaper and the whole place smelled like something dead— and I don't mean the vampires.

At first, I wondered where his gang was. But then it occurred to me, they were out doing what they were paid to do, watching over the prostitutes who sought their protection, ready to jump in if they were needed. A tidy business for vampires, once I thought about it. Think about it: A free meal while keeping your cash crops safe. The vampire American dream.

Out of nowhere— so out of nowhere, in fact, that it made my heart do a failed back flip and land on its soft spot— I felt my boot hit something small on the floor. I'm not sure what I expected it to be, but I know I wasn't expecting a little golden necklace with a splash of blood over the heart-shaped locket. I picked it up and opened it to find a picture of Megan, Michael, and Emily Wright all together, smiling. On the opposite side of the picture was an engraving that said: "To my wife Megan, mother of my child. I'll always love you, and on the day when you can learn to love me again, I'll be waiting. – Michael."

They all looked so happy in the picture, and even though I knew it couldn't have been a recent picture, I had to wonder how old the locket was. Were Megan and Michael planning on reconciling their differences? Was this locket given to her at the start of their divorce, before the custody battle? And if it was, did that mean she had gone to him and maybe said she didn't want to come back? If that was it, then why was the locket here of all places? Wouldn't she have given it back?

"That's weird," Klaus said from over the headset.

"Yeah…" I heard Miles say under his breath, as if this had made him start thinking about something very deeply. But my surprise came from hearing his voice at all.

"Finally decided to help me work, did we Miles?" I asked, making sure he noted the sarcasm in my voice.

"What? I've only been gone for two days. It's not like I gave up my seat next to the munchkin here."

"Hey!" Klaus snapped. By the sound of his voice, I imagined Miles playfully ruffling Klaus's hair the way most of us did when we were teasing him.

"Hush you guys, before someone hears you."

"Sorry…" they murmured in unison.

I stuffed the locket into the pocket of my jacket. I wasn't sure if this was going to be any use to me or not, but better safe than sorry. The vampires had no need of it. They were probably just going to try and sell it. At least, if worst came to worst, I could just give it to Michael Wright. Maybe it would help give him closure.

I was hoping to find something else, something more concrete. But before I could, James called Klaus and was patched through to me.

"Alice, you might want to leave. I've stalled as long as I could, but I couldn't anymore without seeming suspicious. I know, I didn't help for very long but—"

"Its fine James, I'm on my way." I said in a soft whisper. "Meet me back at the cars." I didn't know if was loud enough for him to hear me or not until he told me that he'd be waiting.

As I turned to leave, I heard voices talking from around the corner— and one of them mentioned 'that whore that got murdered'.

"It's a shame really," said one of them. I was torn. If I stayed to listen, I ran the risk of getting caught and shot at— but if I left, I might miss something important. I hurried through an open apartment door not too much further down the hall, pressed my back against the wall, and listened very carefully. "She was my favorite. Girl might've liked to talk about her kid— but boy did she _know her way around_!"

The other voice laughed, hard. "I'll say! It's cute, though how she and that other girl— what's her name? Penny? Posh? Oh well, it doesn't matter. How they kept trying to leave and go back to their big-shot husbands. Oh ho how that pissed David off! Poor guy had to threaten them into staying, remember?"

"It's a sad day when a cow thinks it can deny the farmer. What kind of world do we live in nowadays?"

"I hear you! Hey, where do you think we should go for dinner? I'm getting sick of the bums down by the dump. They all taste like rotten eggs and spoiled milk."

I waited as quietly as I could until they had walked past me. I peeked out from behind the wall and saw them turn another corner, no longer in sight. I stepped out from my hiding spot and began heading towards the cars again, doing everything in my power to stay as far behind them as I could so I wouldn't be caught. I'd gladly kill them if they saw me, but if Cohan learned that two of his men were killed by hunters mysteriously during the night— he might just beef up security a bit, and that'd be a pain in the ass for me if I ever needed to sneak in again.

I found James leaning on my car, looking around while tapping his fingers against the hood. It wasn't so much the tapping itself that was bothering me, but instead the fact that he was getting fingerprints on my car. Oh well. If I can stand getting a few bullet holes in it sometimes, I can stand a few James finger prints.

"Thank god," he said when he saw me. "I thought that maybe they'd caught you. But then again, I think I would've noticed that sort of thing, wouldn't I?"

I shrugged. "What'd you find out from Cohan?"

He gave me a big, stupid smile. "Jack shit. He was lying through his fangs. What'd you come up with?"

After a second, I handed him the locket I found. While he was looking it over, as if he were a jeweler trying to figure out how much it was worth, I shared with him the things I had been thinking earlier.

"I wasn't sure how old this thing was at first, but on my way out I heard a couple of vampires talking about how Megan and Polly both tried to leave and go back to their husbands. That Cohan _threatened_ them into staying on as his whores. What better motive for murder than an employee that continually tries to leave the business? Especially when the suspect is a vampire pimp with a history of violence?"

"That… actually makes a lot of sense." James said, sounding as though my making sense astonished him.

"So now she's got a morally acceptable reason to bust back into Cohan's base of operations and shoot the holy snot out of him. Lovely." Miles said.

"Oh like she _needs_ a morally acceptable reason." Klaus defended, and it took everything I had not to smile at their banter.

"Don't sound so surprised," I said to James, crossing my arms. "Anyway, we need to decide what course of action would be best. Klaus had a point when he said jumping to any conclusions would probably come back to bite me in the ass, and according to you he was clearly lying about whatever you asked him. If he feels the need to lie, he's got something to hide. If he's got something to hide, we can't kill him yet…"

"We could keep an eye on him." James offered up. "I mean, real cops do stake-outs for suspects, don't they?"

I didn't much relish the thought of spending hours upon hours alone with him in the dark, but I couldn't deny that he had an idea worth considering.

"That they do." I said, having to take a minute to think about whether or not I really wanted to agree to such a thing. Normally, with only two people on a case, both of them staking out at one suspect's house would seem counter-productive. We didn't even know for sure if he did it— but the thing was that it wasn't as if we had tons of leads. Cohan was the most likely to have done it, and since we had no other suspects, James's idea was the best we had. "Okay, sounds like a plan. I'll get this locket over to BGS so they can test the blood, but we can start the stake-out when I get back."

"Alice," Klaus said from over the headset. "BGS is all the way across the city. You'll never make it there and back before sunrise. Just start it tomorrow."

"Then forget it. I'll take it to them tomorrow during the day. I'll stay here with James and wait for Mr. I-treat-women-like-cattle to make the wrong move so I can put a bullet in his head."

"I don't know what Klaus just told you to do," James said suddenly, after a long period when no one said anything because no one knew _what_ to say. "But I'll be fine by myself. The blood on that locket is more important than watching Cohan, so it should get first priority. Go take it to BGS. I'll stay here and keep an eye on Cohan and, if you think it'll make you feel better, I'll even call you periodically and keep you up-to-date."

Another moment passed when no one said anything. I hated the idea of leaving James to watch over Cohan, but _not _because I was concerned about his safety. I had always believed that if you wanted a job done right, you've got to do it yourself. The problem was, I had two jobs that I wanted done quickly and right— but I couldn't be in two places at once, so I had to accept help. Despite how much it pained me.

With my heart heavy and my fists clenched at my side, I nodded. "Fine, but James had better keep me in the loop or else."

"Of course, why would I _purposefully_ invoke your wrath?" He asked, smiling stupidly as he did so. I had to bite the inside corner of my mouth to keep from smiling too.

"Alright," I said. "I'll try to hurry so I don't miss anything good."

"If anything interesting happens, I'll try to record it for you on my cell phone!" James called after me as I hurried to my car. I still didn't much like the idea of leaving James alone to watch over a suspect, but BGS had the equipment to test the blood on the locket and that was more important than some silly stake-out.

The drive from Camberwell Church Street to BGS HQ seemed like it would never end. I hated the inconvenience of BGS being on the very edge of the city, but it was that same incredible inconvenience that kept the organization secret from the public. I guess everything has its good points and its bad points.

Like the drive itself for instance. It may have taken an eternity to get to where I needed to be, but at least Klaus and Miles provided some interesting conversation to keep me entertained.

"Will you quit poking me?" Klaus asked, sounding irritated.

"Nope." Miles said, sounding bored. After a short moment of silence, I heard Klaus again.

"I said quit it!"

"No you didn't. You asked me if I would quit poking you. You didn't _tell _me to _do _anything."

"Why are you even poking him?" I asked.

"Because I'm _bored_!" He whined. "I _hate_ long car rides! Nothing ever happens while we're in city limits."

"Oh hush up," Klaus snapped, but not all that harshly. He sounded almost like mother used to when dad would do something she thought was ridiculous.

I arrived outside of BGS HQ a lot later than I would've wanted. One of the roads I had to take to get there was under construction, so I had to take an alternate route that took me a lot further out of the way then I wanted.

Annie was sitting behind the front desk of the vampire division reading _Interview with the Vampire_ when I came in. I smiled.

"How appropriate." I said. She jumped like a cat does when someone turns on the vacuum cleaner while it's sleeping. Quickly, she saved her page with a make-shift receipt bookmark. "Relax Annie, I'm just teasing. That actually used to be one of my favorites." I saw a look in her eyes that made me think she wanted to ask me something, but wasn't brave enough. "Can you do me a favor and make sure Victor gets this?"

I handed her the locket wrapped in a tissue from the box on her desk. She looked at it for a long moment before stating, very quietly under her breath, that Victor had left for Ireland because his wife's mother was moving and they had been enlisted to help.

"He said he'd be back sometime next week." She added, barely loud enough for me to hear her.

"Oh, okay then. Give it to Dr. Patterson over at the morgue whenever he comes in and tell him I need him to test the blood, and to call me when he gets it."

"Yes ma'am." Annie said nervously, quickly scribbling my instructions down on a piece of scratch paper with a dying pen.

"Thanks Annie."

She nodded at me as I left, and in the echoing silence I could hear her opening her book again to continue reading. As I stepped out into the main hallway, headed for where I parked my car, Klaus put James through on the headset.

"What's the news?" I asked, not really expecting anything too important. Routine check-in, just like he said he would.

"Alice, Cohan's on the move."

Apparently, I was wrong.

* * *

**Sorry this took so long! I had majorly bad writer's block Dx**


End file.
